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When in Vaugarde, do as the Vaugardians do. Because certainly the Poterian expression about the third time being the charm wound up not applying to facing the King.

Or maybe it would have applied if you had somehow made it to the King on your third loop entirely.

You lay in the grassy clearing for the 4th time ever out of 11 loops so far. You've been laying there long enough to develop a crick in your neck, since the only effort you made to keep the drifting sun out of your eye was to turn your head away. 

(You have to get up some time.)

(Mirabelle is nervous enough already, you shouldn't worry her more by taking this long to wake from your nap.)

Try as you may, you can't find it in you to even sit up. 

Something still has a grip on your stomach.

(What did he mean...)

("Do you remember...?")

...Dread. Not the answer to the King's looming question, but the response that still lingers with your even after listening to the birds go piou-piou for hours.

You aren't sure where you've gone wrong. But the deeper you've ventured into the House with your friends, the more you have realized something isn't right.

Something isn't right with you. 

(Oh, stars, your hands are shaking again.)

(Breathe in...
...
...and out...)

(Okay, so, let's review.)

(Somehow you don't, well, didn't know the words "kiln", "pottery wheel", or "stuffed animal"...)

(And you can't stop thinking about Isa's remark about how your cloak was Crafted to grow in size relative to its owner.)

(And was likely handmade.)

(And with the temperature regulation feature sewn in to boot...)

(You can only assume you either made a very wise purchase in your youth, or a caregiver had made it for you when you were little.)

(And you cannot for all the stars in the sky remember WHO YOUR PARENTS COULD BE!?!?!?)

You sink your teeth into a gloved fist, stifling a scream.

(Who are you, anyway?)

[...]

[Listen, stardust, I can't really help out with all that. A journey of self-discovery is well, something you do yourself.]

[But maybe you should consider stopping by to talk. It's been a few loops since we had a chat, and you're not doing yourself any favors not even getting started.]

[Time's a-wasting!]

You close your eye. They aren't wrong. Even with Mira's newest Craft, the King is still the formidable force they were all afraid of. It did them no favors not practicing fighting with Isabeau's new papier mache gloves before going straight into the third confrontation. They had no coordination whatsoever, and were quashed before the King felt threatened enough to guard with Tears.

(Stupid foolish not thinking--)

You take another breath and pull yourself to your feet. And plod into Dormont.

Mirabelle isn't waiting for you at the village entrance this time. She sits outside the library engrossed in her not-weird papers. You consider slipping past to go directly to the Favor Tree--

(Welp, you made eye contact.)

Mira waves you over, face awash in relief and somehow worry at the same time.

(She's most likely worried about you napping so late, and what you'll think of her sleepover idea, but)

(You wonder if something in her papers has her concerned? Beyond the REMINDER NOTE you always get, you have no idea what those papers could be.)

(Maybe they are weird after all.)

Instead of just approaching Mirabelle, you take a seat next to her on the bench. She tucks the papers on the side opposite before you can even glance at them, but her unchanging expression suggests she doesn't mean to hide them.

"How was your nap, Siffrin?"

(You had dreamed of being stuck inside a samosa.)

"Cramped," you reply. You roll your shoulders but the ache in your neck stays put.

"O-oh no! Do you want me to use Healing Craft to--"

But you're already casting Done Heal, much to the surprise of the Housemaiden still at Level 46.

(You're not planning on making much progress in this loop, and you've already exhausted most options sticking with the script. What's one or two Crafts they've never seen before?)

You give Mirabelle a thumbs-up. "I got it. But sorry for... cramping your style."

Her face flickers between confusion and amusement, finally settling on a dismissive head shake as she snorts. "Glad to see you're feeling better, at least," she smiles. "Say, I-I had an idea..."

You nod along as Mirabelle tells you all about the sleepover and where to find everyone. Now that you think about it, isn't it odd that she's recommending you go to Isabeau last?

"Why should I wait to tell Isa?"

"H-huh?!"

(How many facial expressions of alarm can fit in this single Housemaiden? Maybe she could travel with a theatre troupe for her pilgrimage after everything.)

"W-Well..." Mirabelle twiddles her thumbs. "He's going to the Favor Tree and has a big favor to ask and it's important to not eavesdrop or tell anyone-- oh no I've already said too much!"

(She knows something! Quick, strike while she still has her guard down!)

"So it's considered rude to leaves-drop on people at a Favor Tree?"

"SIF!!!"

(SUCCESS.)

"He has a big favor to ask, huh?" You stick your foot in the proverbially closing door while Mira is still giggling.

"Yes, but I can't tell you. And honestly," she sighs, "Isabeau shouldn't have told me but it was something he'd already asked me for advice on before he decided to consult the Favor Tree. And that's all I'm saying."

(Huh. Interesting.)

You raise both hands in a casual surrender, and hop off the bench. You make for the direction of the shop, but instead keep pace with the running one to go towards the Favor Tree, undetected behind their silhouette.

There's the Tree. There's Loop, somewhere under the shady boughs.

And there's Isabeau.

(You already know what he's been wanting to tell you.)
(And it's most likely courage to tell you that he'd ask of the Favor Tree.)

(...)
(. . .)

Your face is red.

Your face is red and your hands are shaking. Your stomach feels jittery, and you're starting to sweat.

(The plantain peel on the hill behind the shop suddenly comes to mind.)

(...Why? There's no reason to start over yet. You haven't even decided if you will or won't talk to Loop.)

"--frin? You okay?"

(Oh of course he had to come over while you're on an emotional Crafted carnival ride.)

You wave dismissively in the air. "Yeah, I think I'm still half asleep like Mirabelle said."

Isabeau shakes his head with a smile. "Typical Sif."

(...But what would be typical of you?)

(If you could remember who you were, would Isa still...?)

(Plantain peel. Behind the shop. Just 15 meters away.)

Suddenly, your vision blurs and your butt hits the ground. But just for a second, because a panicked Isabeau has grabbed your arm to raise you back up. 

(No hesitation this time?)

"Whoa whoa whoa!" He slowly eases both of you back to the ground, you sitting and him crouching. 

(One step and--)

”Sif, I need you to say something..."

(He still hasn't let go of your shoulders. It's actually helping, somehow?)

"Sif, you look really pale. Should I get Belle?"

(...)

You finally grunt in response, earning a weary grin from Isabeau. But it vanishes as he looks at his arms still in contact with you. "Oh, sorry!" he starts. "You seem better now so I'll let go of--"

(No, don't--)

You raise your hands to his. They go from shaking to still, and Isabeau takes a sharp breath.

(Huh.)

(Touch actually isn't bad if you can be ready for it. And that plantain peel is just a distant memory again.)

"...Siffrin?" Isabeau's face and neck are going red.

You tentatively curl your fingers around his and lower your hands to rest between the two of you. He shifts from crouching to sit on one thigh, following your movement with wide eyes.

(You should say something. If he's not going to say it then)

(Oh. Stars...)

You finally look him in the eyes, and you can finally tell apart the simultaneous uneases you had in your stomach. The anxiety is gone, and now there's only...

"I have something to tell you," you say slowly. "A lot of things."

You glance down at your joined hands as Isabeau tightens his grip. You lightly squeeze back, even as your hands start to shake again.

"I'm listening, Sif," he says gently, shifting again so he sits with his legs crossed. His smile is askew like he's nervous, too.

(Breathe in...
...
...and out...)

Your hands still. You can feel a blush rising on your own cheeks but you stamp down the urge to hide under your hat.

(It's now or never.)

"I think I've fallen for you."

(. . .)

(You just COULDN'T resist, could you?)

You almost wish you still had your other eye so you could scrunch both closed in embarrassment. Turning your head away and looking back at Isabeau out of the corner of your eye works just as well, and...

You feel your hands shaking as he fails to hold back THE loudest cackle you've ever heard. You join in, and both of you tumble on your sides.

It takes a few minutes before you catch your breath. By now you're facing Isabeau and only holding his right hand in your left, clasped against the grass beneath you.

"That was too good, Siffrin," Isa says. "But, um, was it just a joke or...?"

"No!" you say so sharply it makes both of you jump. "Sorry..."

"No, I should be the one apologizing." He squeezes your hand. "I've been meaning to tell you that for... a long time..."

(You know.)

(And he ought to know. Even if just for this loop. But maybe you can just stay in this little safe bubble a little longer.)

You squeeze his hand back. He smiles sheepishly.

"...Honestly I wasn't thinking of telling you unless we defeated the King, but you beat me to it."

(Pop!)

Your smile falls, and Isabeau grimaces. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned that. Kinda ruined the moment."

You take a deep breath and hazard scooting a little closer to him. "It's fine," you mumble. "But that is related to what else I wanted to tell you. It's... it's a lot."

Isabeau falls silent, then adjusts his grip on your hand so your fingers are interlaced. He nods for you to continue.

You tell him about the sleepover. His not-so ominous secret. The Death Corridor.

"...And even though I already looked everywhere, the trap was sprung and it got me."

(You're shaking.)

"It... it killed me."

(Oh stars, you can feel tears building up behind your eye.)

"I got crushed by this boulder, and apparently it comes from a room full of other boulders for other traps, and the trap in the Death Corridor was made to go off just once everyone feels safe, so I screwed up by not looking close enough and--"

"Sif, you gotta breathe."

(That explains the spots in your vision.)

(Breathe in...
...
and... and...)

You breathe in again, clawing for purchase. Isabeau switches to hold your hand in his left, and gently clutches your left shoulder.

"Breathe in," he says, taking a breath himself. You do the same.

"...And out," he exhales, and you follow.

You're crying now.

"The entire House of Change is just one big Death Corridor, Isa," you whisper. "For some reason I can restart back to waking up from my nap today whenever I die. And I've had to die in order to get us all the way to the King. And then we all died first thing, and then we died a second and third time to the King because I wasn't prepared enough..."

You're trembling.

"And the King, he asked me if I remember, and didn't specify what, and there's so many things I should remember"--you take a deep breath--"but I don't even remember where I come from or if I had parents or what the thing you bake pottery in is called."

Isabeau has scooted closer to you, both arms holding your shoulders but not quite hugging you.

(You want to close the distance but)

Isabeau is crying now, too.

"I'm scared..." you finally mumble. "What if my memory gets worse the longer this takes? What could I have forgotten that the King singled me out like that?"

You fall quiet. The afternoon sky has shifted to a blazing sunset, and you have to turn your head to face Isabeau to keep the sun out of your eye. Isabeau, still raked with sobs.

(Seeing him this upset shouldn't be making you feel better...)

But eventually Isabeau quiets, too, and he looks up at you with red eyes. His mouth opens and closes uselessly, and instead he glances at your entwined arms and back at you. At the signal of your nod, he finally pulls you in for the hug you needed over three cumulative weeks ago.

"...I wish I could have been there for you," he says. He sweeps his hands comfortingly across your upper back. "Well, you know--"

”I know, and you were," you breathe into his shoulder. "Once I realized what you were hinting at back at the clocktower, I looked forward to talking with you during every loop."

Isabeau's hands still for a moment. "That's not really fair, I haven't even gotten to say it yet."

(Oh?)

You slowly push away just enough to look Isabeau in the eye again. Tears stain his ruddy cheeks and he's holding you like the wrong move could break you like glass. You imagine you don't look much different right now.

But he smiles through it as he says, "I love you, Siffrin. That's true whether I'm able to tell you in a loop or not."

You nod as the tears start flowing again. "I know... And I'm sorry I already know..."

"But do you know I've loved you since you helped defeat that first Sadness? Since you said it was 'knife' to meet me?"

Isabeau lets go of your shoulder against the ground and brings his hand next to but not touching your jaw. You turn your head to lay into his palm, sniffling.

"And then we went to see that comedy play and I saw your eyes light up with every pun in the script." His thumb brushes your cheek. "And you were so steadfast in recovering after that Sadness took your eye."

You scoot imperceptibly closer to him.

"I--"

You bring your forehead against his, and he takes it from there. Your lips meet and it tastes like grass and salty tears but it also tastes like home.

You part with a satisfied sigh, looking up at him relaxed for the first time in what feels like years.

(For all you know, it could very well be years since you were at such ease.)

"I believe in you, Siffrin," Isabeau whispers. "Even if you don't have this conversation again with me, that will always be the truth. I know it's difficult for me to ask this of you, but don't forget that, okay?"

(...)

(You will always remember this moment.)

[You gained the MEMORY OF FONDNESS. When equipped, you grant extra defense to the party member you give your turn to.]

[...And there's one for both you and the Defender, stardust.]

[Nicely done.]

◾▪️◾▪️◾▪️◾

Mirabelle's eyes are the size of the Change God statue's face when she spots you walking back, holding Isa's hand. She rushes towards you, papers abandoned, and looks back and forth between you and Isabeau.

Your face flushes and you slowly start retreating behind the collar of your cape and the brim of your hat the longer she stares. The dark edges frame your friends (friend and your...?) just right as they let out excited squeals.

"NO CRABBING WAY!" Mira shrieks.

"YES CRABBING WAY!" Isa replies. He raises your joined hands and shakes them for emphasis.

"What is this Vaugardian custom called the 'crabbing way' that I haven't..."

(Oh no.)

Eyebrows raised...

(No no no.)

Usual smirk bared...

(Nonononono--)

Odile takes in the scene with a low whistle, and turns to Mirabelle. "I believe you owe me the coinage for three croissants, as per our agreement."

(EW WHAT!?)

Mirabelle produces a handful of change from her purse with a slight scowl, dispensing it in the Researcher's open palm.

"Come again?" Isabeau squeaks.

"Croissants..." you mutter, holding back a shiver.

The Housemaiden huffs. "Odile and I placed a bet on whether or not Isabeau would be able to tell Siffrin how he feels. If he could, I had to pay up. If he couldn't..."

Your face comes out of hiding.

"...then I would end my 'vow of silence', so to speak, and tell Mirabelle what I'm researching," Odile finished. "Clearly you're destined to continue guessing."

(WHAT)
(WHAT)
(WHAT)

"Oh that is so not fair, but oh so clever," Isabeau says, nodding sagely.

(WHAT THE BLINDING CRAB)

(You're torn between the satisfaction of finally getting this far with Isabeau, and the utter dismay of your biggest chance to solve the mystery of Odile's research vanishing into the means of obtaining the worst baked good known to mankind.)

(Oh, the horror...)

The initial excitement having settled into a content hum, you realize the sky is settling into night. Stars poke through the dusky blue, the last rays of the sun folding into a warped rainbow on the horizon.

(Isabeau Knows, but Odile and Mirabelle do not. And there is only so much time...)

You feel something warm squeeze your shaking hand. Isa meets your eye with a reassuring smile.

(In, and out...)

"Hey, there's something you need to know..."

◾▪️◾▪️◾▪️◾

Bonnie is preparing dinner, and you sit in a circle with everyone outside. You were able to convince the kid that you wanted the meal to be a surprise, and the young chef rolled up their sleeves with zest and zeal (and maybe orange zest and lemon peel, if your nose was working) as they all but shoved you all out the door.

You were also, somehow, able to tell the others everything you could remember. Isabeau hugged a weepy Mirabelle when you revealed the true source of her blessing. Odile folded in on herself when you mentioned how focused she was on the library circulation records. Isabeau scratched the back of his neck when you repeated his explanation of your cape's composition.

And the whole group fell silent when you got to the part about the King. And being asked if you remembered.

"...I did try turning the question around on him the third time, but the King just dismissed it," you say quietly. "I know this looks bad, with the Time Craft he's capable of and whatever is going on with me, but I honestly have no idea what he means."

Mira is picking at a splinter in the tower siding. Isabeau was calm when you told him earlier, but his face is half-hidden behind his knees and he has a death grip on your shoulder.

Odile pinches the bridge of her nose.

(Never a good sign.)

"What are we supposed to do with this information?"

(...Huh?)

She didn't say it in her usual sarcastic tone. Her brow is furrowed, but she's looking at you expectantly. "Siffrin, you're the one who chose to tell us for this 'loop'. Do you have a plan in mind?"

(...You don't, actually. But somehow this is keeping the urge to go back for that plantain peel at bay.)

Isabeau rests his chin on his knees. "I think Sif just needs us to support him. They've been going at it alone for, how long did you say?"

"...This is the eleventh loop, so 20 days. Today makes three weeks," you manage.

(Three weeks of the same. The same dinner, the same malanga fritters, the same Sadnesses, the same traps, the same mistakes--)

Isabeau's hand draws circles on your shoulder, and you stop trembling.

"Oh, Change," Mira breathes. Her hands grip her skirt, but then clap together. "I think I have an idea!"

"Oh?" Odile shifts her weight to face the Housemaiden.

"What if we do what Siffrin does?" Her eyes are shining, but stagger a bit on the next part. "I'm not sure about the traps, but if we all act as extra sets of eyes, maybe we can find more useful stuff sooner and--"

She hiccups. "And keep them from having to loop again, even just for a bit..."

(You've made her cry. This was a mistake, you should have kept your mouth shut, why--)

"I thought so," Odile says. "I was going to suggest that myself if Siffrin didn't have a plan. You seem to be struggling because you're doing this all alone and lack information, and you can only glean so much in a single loop, right?"

You nod. Isa squeezes your shoulder again.

"For all our sake, I hope you can come to us about this sooner in the next loop, if it comes to it." She looks up at the dumb croissant-shaped moon. "We don't have much time left to discuss this without Boniface present."

(Suddenly, the prospect of the next loop hits you hard. And the fact that everyone will Know what it means if you touch a Tear.)

(They'll only know the one time, if you decide not to tell all next time.)

(Would that be easier...?)

"Sif."

You turn to look at Isabeau. "We're with you, no matter what. Will you let us help you?"

◾▪️◾▪️◾▪️◾

Dinner is more or less the same, but you can't help but tear up a little when Mirabelle gives her speech. Even Odile rises to awkwardly rest her hand on Mirabelle's back. You don't hesitate when Isa offers his hand and pulls you into the group hug.

(No, this is easier.)

When bedtime finally comes, your nerves are back. This will be the first loop (maybe the only one) where Isabeau's cryptic message doesn't run the risk of waking the others. You have no idea what to expect, for once. You toss and turn.

"--Frin?"

Isa is awake. Like usual. But he knows now he can take your hand and nestle close. You turn to face him.

"Sorry..."

"It's okay. It's been a big day."

(. . .)

(Is there anything left of the original script?)

(The plantain peel sits in the recesses of your mind.)

"Isa, I'm scared..."

He holds you. "I know. I'm scared, too. I can't imagine something happening and you having to go back and there being no way for me now to help."

"That's not the only thing I'm scared of." You shift back to look him in the eye, but stare down at your pillow. "You know how I can choose to start a new loop, if I get stuck?"

You swallow nervously. "I... I keep thinking of the way I can restart in Dormont. I've been thinking about it whenever something feels amiss or isn't going right but..." You tuck your hand in Isa's before it can start shaking. "I've been thinking about it all day, and I don't know why."

(It's out, it's finally out.)

(You have no idea how hard this could get, so better now than never.)

You keep staring at the pillow, tears budding in your eye. Isabeau doesn't say anything but you feel as he lifts your blanket. You nod, and he slides in next to you, hugging you tight.

You sob into his shirt as quietly as you can, not wanting to wake the others. He draws circles on your back, and you cry harder when you feel something wet on your cheek. He peppers your head with light kisses between congested sniffs.

"...Sif, I'm asking this genuinely," Isa murmurs. "Do you know what that's called?"

(...)
(. . .)
(You don't.)

You squeeze your arms around his waist in response.

Isa takes a shaky breath and kisses your cheek. "That's called wanting to hurt yourself."

(Oh stars...)

"I'm sorry..."

Tears well up again, and you start to push Isabeau away. You only succeed in hiding your face under your left arm as you lay on your back, your other hand still tethered to his left.

You feel a small squeeze. This language you and Isabeau crafted just for yourselves. 'May I? Yes or no.'

(No, you can't push him away now. You may never get this close again.)

(...You may never get this close again.)

"How... how do I stop wanting to hurt myself?"

(How do you go on if you can't hold his hand?)

You lower your arm and look at Isa. There's no doubt that's dried snot on the back of his free hand, and his cheeks are tear-stained, and...

(You're so selfish.)

You almost make him yelp with how quick you tug him over to you. You lay him diagonally across your chest and try mimicking those comforting circles he was tracing on your back before. His forehead lays against your pillow, his face turned towards your neck. You angle your head down to kiss his cheek this time.

"I'm sorry. I should have noticed how hard this was on you, too."

That's what breaks him. Now he's trembling and clutching you as if it'll keep time itself from reaching you. You feel his tears slip under your shirt collar (gross, but negligible). You try to kiss his cheek again but he uses the opening to wrap his arms around your shoulders. After several minutes and several wracking sobs, Isa kisses you lightly and relaxes against your torso.

"The easy answer is we defeat the King, so you don't have to loop anymore," he mutters. "But Change knows how long that'll actually take."

You card your fingers through his hair.

(If you could only keep this moment in a locket to look back on whenever you needed...)

(Actually...)

"So, this is just a hypothetical but," you take a breath, "do you have anything I could take with me to remember you by?"

"Huh?"

"All I can keep with me between loops besides equipment is whatever stuff I gathered earlier on in a single timeline," you explain. "I can carry a kid's drawing of all of us all the way to the King, and you can take a flower I give you from Dormont to there, too."

"So if we figure out some kind of momento you can have that early on, you think it could help you... not want to restart when you don't have to?"

(Stars, he shouldn't look that cute blushing after all you two have cried.)

"Yeah. Is there anything you can think of that would work, if Odile weren't to win her bet?" you tease.

"No, I think she's always going to win. It may not happen like this again, but I'm serious about you, Sif."

"Even running the risk of me being in proximity to croissants again?"

"I think I can protect you from the big bad bread roll." He cocks his head with a smirk. The motion makes his earrings go ding-ding!

(. . .)

"I never did get to go ding-ding," you muse.

"Hmm?"

You explain how you found the BELL PENDANT on Floor 1 of the House. "But I have no clue where to find a necklace chain. And it doesn't feel right asking the jeweler for one when her wife is Frozen right there..."

Isabeau doesn't respond. You turn to him, and he's got a deep blush spread all over.

"...Isa?"

He squeezes your hand, and rises from the bed. He brings up one finger to say 'wait a minute', and leaves the room.

The moon glows pointedly down at you through the window.

(What is it with celestial objects trying to get right in your eye?)

Bonnie starts snoring like a Crafted boat when Isa finally returns. The moonlight casts half of his face in shadow, but he's smiling at whatever is in his closed fist. He turns it palm-side up to you, and unfurls his fingers.

It's... one of his earrings. But it's not on a hook like before. There's some kind of hinge on a clamp above the charm.

"...I'm serious about you, Sif," he says, still red in the face. "And I'm putting a lot of faith in my past self to do this again, but..."

He motions at his left ear and looks at yours. You nod. He opens the clamp and lets it close on your earlobe. It pinches a bit but it's almost the same as when Ida holds your hand. You shake your head experimentally.

Ding-ding.

Isabeau returns to bed and you nestle into his arms without further ado. "I think if you can mention wanting something to go ding-ding on your outfit like me and Mira when you see me at the Favor Tree, I might do this again."

"But you really like these earrings..."

(Something scratches at the back of your mind.)

(...)
(OH.)

"Is this supposed to be--?"

Isa sheepishly nods. 

(Floor 3 of the House. Isa and Mira were waxing poetic about it, but you clearly remember how important the bonding earrings are in Vaugarde.)

"Are you absolutely sure you would do this again in another loop?" you whisper.

"Do you think your aspiring fashion designer of a friend would deny you the privilege of going ding-ding when asked?" he counters with mock offense, earning him a stifled chuckle. "I have some really simple jewelry supplies. Even if I make like a crab and don't give you one of my earrings, I'm bound to give you something."

(Whatever the form, a precious momento with a promise transcending time sounds like it should keep you from being tempted to slip on a plantain peel.)

(Plus, the weight of the charm combined with the pressure on your earlobe is comforting by itself.)

(So comforting in fact...)

"...'m tired, Isa." You yawn so wide your jaw cracks. It took until now for the exhaustion of crying all day to hit you, and sleep is calling your name. The moon has since moved aside for the stars to blink at you.

You and Isa shift until you're laying like you were on the grass before, facing each other with hands clasped between you.

"...I love you," you mumble before slumber can completely overtake you.

"Love you too, Frin."

◾▪️◾▪️◾▪️◾

--FIVE LOOPS LATER--

"Hey, Mirabelle, you might want to change the terms of your bet with Odile. Apparently we saviors get baked goods for free."

"H-HUH!? YOU KNOW ABOUT--"

You turn your head to grin mischievously.

Ding-ding.