Chapter Text
'She keeps staring at me.' Maelle complains, and Gustave glances over. It's true. That woman is staring at her.
'Maybe she hasn't seen a kid in a while.' He guesses.
It is a good guess. At present, that woman - Aline is her name - is standing at the edge of their camp and staring wide-eyed at Maelle with an expression of slack-jawed horror. Gustave knows the feeling. The continent is a dangerous enough place as it is, and even more so for a willful teenager.
'I'm not a kid.' Said teenager pouts, and proves his point about her being willful.
'Maybe she's just not used to people,' Sciel proposes. 'Especially smaller ones.' She ruffles Maelle's hair, and the girl ducks away from her hand with a whiney grumble.
'I'm not small.' The smallest of their group protests.
Sciel smiles at Maelle fondly. Their expedition sits clustered around the campfire, whispering. 'I know. You're just... temporarily disadvantaged.'
'Disadvantaged?'
'Vertically challenged.' Gustave summarizes.
'I'm not short!'
'Not for long,' Sciel grins teasingly. 'Soon you'll sprout and be taller than we are.'
'If you're quite finished,' Lune interrupts them, cutting through their fond musings to remind them. 'Can we please discuss the matter at hand? What is she doing here?'
Expedition Thirty-Three glances subtly over at their new guest. Sciel pretends to be watching the trees, and her gaze darts from the branches to the woman and back again. Maelle watches the stranger with blatant suspicion, frowning at her over the scythe-wielder's shoulder and half hiding. Lune also stares blatantly.
Gustave opts for the subtle approach but turns his head a bit too fast, immediately gets caught by those pale blue eyes, and tries to cover up his actions with a cough (as if that excuses his head turning).
He has seen those eyes before. Maelle's are a great deal similar. Actually, most of his young ward's appearance is similar to the woman loitering at the edges of their camp and watching her. His mechanical mind presumes there to be a connection, but his years in Lumière make him dismiss it as impossible.
'Well, we did invite her.' Sciel concedes, looking somewhat guilty since it was her who insisted the stranger come with them. 'I guess we shouldn't be surprised that she followed.'
'That's not what I meant,' Lune snaps, crossing her arms and glaring at the newcomer even more suspiciously. 'How did she survive the gommage? What if she's friends with that white-haired man we saw on the beach?'
'Maybe we should just ask her?'
Both women stare at each other for a moment, and then rise from the ground to do exactly that. Sciel turns on her legendary charm, sweeping over to Aline with her arms outstretched and a wide smile as she invites her across the boundary. Lune follows close behind, the scholar's suspicions fading more and more as she lets her curiosity get the better of her.
'Are you alright?' Gustave frowns as Maelle suddenly seizes up, then lurches to the side and hides behind him.
'I- Yeah...' She inhales a deep breath, then dares to glance at the watching stranger over his shoulder. Aline has yet to blink or take her eyes off of the teenager, not even with Sciel and Lune now there. 'She just- She keeps staring...'
'I'll tell her to stop.' Gustave promises, and then, being a good guardian, does exactly that.
Twilight sees Aline sitting by the fire with the rest of them, while the expeditioners either nod off or polish their weaponry. She no longer stares at Maelle, having startled and apologized when Gustave called her out on it. She seemed to be lost in memory.
But she does keep the teenager always in her peripheral vision, even when she volunteers to wash their dishes at the river as the redhead dozes peacefully. She watches the youngster from across the clearing.
'Do you have any children?' Gustave can't help but ask later, his instincts calling out to him.
He is sure that she does when Aline turns to him. On her face is an expression of pure motherly concern, eyes still wide and hands shaking, like a parent in Lumière after one of their children fell into the harbor.
'I...' Her voice is gravelly, like she has not had much cause to use it. There must not be many people to talk to on the continent. That plus the gommage (which she denies any knowledge of) will have aged her beyond her years. Her face is crisscrossed by wrinkles that Gustave can scarcely remember ever seeing. 'I do.'
'Any daughters?'
Aline's eyes trail over to Maelle, who is now sound asleep beneath Gustave's jacket. In dreams her teenage fears are all forgotten. The embers of the fire match the hue of her bright red hair. In this light, Aline's hair looks a little reddish too.
'Yes,' The woman falters and regains herself. She looks desperately unsure, having been alone and aimless. 'I have two.'
Gustave wonders where they are now, but feels that asking that question might be a touch too personal.