Chapter Text
The thing was that at first, Marcille and Shuro agreed.
Marcille had spent her time since arriving at the Island glued to Falin’s side, drinking in her laughter and following her into the dungeon to chase after both their hearts’ desire, and when Chilchuck brought with him a warrior for their newly formed party, she had not thought much of it at first when he looked at Falin as if she were a goddess.
Of course he would, because Falin was obviously the most wonderful person in the world - she made Marcille’s heart beat faster every day!
So she had smiled at Shuro, because a shared joy was a greater one, and he had been startled but - smiled back.
This did not last long.
"I’ll take the watch after Falin," Shuro said one night, and Marcille stopped dead in her tracks, her hands stilling on her lap where she had been sewing one of Falin’s buttons back onto her pack.
She stared at Shuro from across the crackling fire, its warmth much appreciated in this cold and dark region of the dungeon.
That was her watch.
Laois, of course, noticed nothing, simply nodding. "I’ll take the last watch for tonight, then!"
The tough fabric of Falin’s pack creased in Marcille’s suddenly tight grip, her knuckles white.
That was her watch. Her midnight moment where Falin would wake her up, that warm hand on her shoulder nearly petting Marcille awake instead of shaking her. It was Marcille Falin would smile at, only to have to cover a yawn next, and Marcille would sit up, and vacate her sleeping bag because she’d already warmed it up anyway, and Falin would lie down in it, and put her head in Marcille’s lap as she slowly fell asleep. Marcille would pick out leaves and sticks out of Falin’s hair - they always accumulated through the day - and finger comb it even as she kept an eye out for any monster that might come near. She would sit over Falin like a sentinel, and Falin would be safe, and warm, and protected.
Because that was Marcille’s job.
And now Shuro had taken it without anybody even looking up from their own campsite tasks, and it was so stupid to feel like the world was ending because of it, because Shuro was her friend, and so was Falin, but -
She didn't want anyone else to do something like that for Falin, but she knew, with a surety that gripped her heart like ice-cold claws, that Shuro would want to, even if Marcille did not know if Falin would let him.
…Would she?
Marcille turned her head to study Falin, who simply smiled when she saw Marcille, looking as if nothing had happened at all.
Marcille didn’t know.
With her nighttime routine with Falin now gone, Marcille could admit she moped for a little bit during their march down to the next floor. Stewed in her own jealousy a little, even, to the point where Falin had sought her out and given her a flower she plucked somewhere from the walls, which had made Marcille blush - and then scold her in a panic. "Do you even know what kind of flower that is?! What if it has acid juices or something and it dissolves tallman skin!"
Marcille grabbed Falin’s hand, turning it over, and inspecting it for any damage. Falin just squeezed her hand, laughing softly as she pulled Marcille closer to her. "Who is the healer here? I’m alright, I promise."
Marcille turned even redder. "Of course!" It came out as a squeak.
"Now turn that frown upside down!" Falin pulled her along towards the others.
Marcille slowly exhaled. She had to recover from having Falin that close so unexpectedly, but it was like a weight had disappeared from her shoulders.
And just like that, Marcille’s bad mood was gone - and she could start planning.
Shuro took away time Marcille was used to spending with Falin, so she simply had to spend more time with her at other times. The fact that they were already together nearly 24/7, sometimes even including bathroom breaks, did not deter her.
Living out of each other’s pockets was what happened if you were in a dungeon party together, but as far as Marcille was concerned, she could always get closer to Falin somehow.
…It wasn’t unhinged if Falin was into it.
And Falin did seem to like it very much, when Marcille got her a (safe! She knew this one!) flower in return and handed her extra dried fruit at dinner, Falin’s favorite.
The issue came when they were sitting down to eat said dinner. Because Shuro sat down next to Falin while Marcille was serving dinner, on her right side, where Marcille always sat!
"That is my seat!"
Shuro blinked. "Oh, my apologies. I just sat down."
Oh, she saw what he was doing! Gaining sympathy by playing up his weariness, huh?! Well, she wasn’t standing for it! "I always sit there."
"...Do you need to sit here every day?"
Somewhere behind her, Marcille heard an exasperated sigh - no doubt an annoyed Chilchuck, but she couldn’t be bothered to be ashamed of what she was doing. She felt like she could breathe fire if Shuro didn’t stand up in the next five seconds. She clenched her fists tightly against her sides, her face on fire, no doubt flush with emotion.
Falin cocked her head, and abruptly, Marcille realized what a scene she must be making. She wanted to sink into the ground, but - surely Falin would see the injustice being done here? She sent her a beseeching look.
Falin patted the ground on her other side. "One on either side, please! It’s cold tonight, so huddling up is better for all of us."
And she was right, and Marcille would never say no to a Falin cuddle, though she was pretty put out Shuro was included too.
The scumbag was smiling about it too!
Months passed like that, full of tension between them. Both Marcille and Shuro escalated to playing up minor injuries at some point, to Chillchuck’s immense annoyance and Falin’s endless patience and healing. She seemed aware they were playing it up - though how could she not be at this point? - but didn’t seem to mind paying extra attention to them. Marcille was incredibly pleased by that… if only Shuro weren’t in the picture.
That was to say, where there had been something of a polite competition before, Marcille and Shuro were now outright at war. And given that Shuro had just finished reciting a poem about Falin’s beauty to her, and she was smiling, Marcille was pretty sure he was winning this particular battle so far.
Was she certain Falin had even noticed the poem was about her? No. But Marcille would outdo Shuro even if it killed her. He might be an educated lord, but compliments weren’t that hard; Marcille thought all kinds of complimentary things about Falin all the time!
So she walked up to her, opened her mouth, and what came out was, "I love how round you are."
…Everyone was staring.
Marcille got redder and redder, and maybe that had sounded a little weird, but it was true, Falin was round all over and her curves were so pretty, and Marcille couldn’t help being a lesbian!
"She is very round and cute!" Laois, King of Not Understanding Awkward Situations, piped up.
Everyone stared even more. Falin looked faintly surprised.
Marcille wanted to run off into the wilderness and hide forever now, please.
So she did.
Everything was fine. Marcille wasn’t hyperventilating, she wasn’t leaking magic. Sparks flying off her fingers was totally normal!) and she was absolutely brave enough to go and seek out Falin to figure out if she needed to apologize for the round comment.
Slapping her cheeks, she took a deep breath and started making her way back. She’d been silly all along, really, she should’ve gotten up and moving earli-
She heard voices in the corridor in front of her. That was strange; she shouldn’t be near the camp just yet. She paused just before going around the corner - was that Shuro’s voice?
"Will you marry me, Falin?"
…What?! Marcille froze, her blood turning to ice in her veins.
It was silent for a bit. Then, Falin said, "I need to think about it."
Marcile saw black spots, swaying as she held on to the rough wall. This couldn’t be happening. Tears burned in her eyes.
She stayed there long after Shuro and Falin’s footsteps had faded away.
When Marcille stumbled back into the camp an hour later, Namari took a single look at her, picked up her pack, and marched them right back out again. "We’ll be back later tonight. Don’t wait up for us," she threw over her shoulders to their companions.
Marcille was so dazed she just followed along.
Namari led her out of the corridors to an open room with a cliff-like structure looking out to the water below. With a firm hand, Namari tugged at her arm to make her sit down and promptly took a bottle out of her bag.
Marcille recognized the label: dwarven spirits. Hard liquor.
"We," Namari said grimly, "are getting to the bottom of this issue right now."
Marcille took the bottle.
The bottle was half empty by the time Marcille had spilled everything and - much to Namari’s consternation and amusement - had started debating the pros and cons of both her and Shuro as Falin’s partner. She’d forced Namari to play devil’s advocate.
"He could give her family. Children."
Marcille, more than a little tipsy by now, pouted. "You couldn’t give her babies either!"
Namari laughed. "I'm not your rival for her affections!"
"Well," Marcille said, "Shuro also has responsibilities and I don’t think Falin could ever leave Laois behind to become a fancy lady on another continent." Possibly, she’d started slurring a little. Sue her. "Too- too little dirt and dungeon messes involved. She likes those, you know?"
Namari patted her hand. "You laboring over her laundry every two days like an aggrieved housewife gave me a clue, yes."
Marcille buried her head in her hands. "She gets them so dirty! But it makes me feel so full of love when she takes the freshly laundered ones from me."
Namari eyed her silently. A nice person would have consoled her by now, Marcille thought. But Namari wasn’t a nice person: she was a good friend. She’d see this through for Marcille’s sake.
And thus, the next argument came. "He could grow old with her."
"I could nurse her in her old age."
Namari snorted and took another swig from the bottle. "I think you do enough of that already now."
"Hey!"
Next argument. Namari was getting sloshed now too, because she forgot to argue for Shuro. "You could give Falin freedom. Chase her dreams with her instead of your own or her brother’s. Would Shuro do that?"
Namari was right. But it made Marcille realize she didn’t actually know where Falin wanted to be in five years, outside of her attachments to other people. She swallowed thickly. It made her sad and a little ashamed that she didn’t - and it made the whole situation between her, Falin and Shuro feel even more sour.
"Neither of us asks Falin what she wants enough anyway," and Marcille started to cry. Had they ever just asked if she even wanted them? "We don’t deserve her! Either of us!"
Namari looked panicked. When the tears kept coming, she eventually awkwardly patted Marcille on the arm.
Marcille barely noticed - she was crying too hard, and she wanted to fix everything so bad, but the world was too much and she was so tired.
Holding each other up, they stumbled back towards the camp. Chilchuck, currently on watch, shook his head when he saw them, but Marcille only had eyes for Falin. She was sweetly asleep, Marcille’s sleeping bag rolled out next to her. Marcille’s heart squeezed.
Marcille would fix everything tomorrow. She swore she would.
She lay down and sank into a deep sleep.