Chapter Text
Nothing intrigued Bonnie more than food. Nothing got them more excited then encountering a new dish they'd never had before. Siffrin suspected that originated from their love of cooking, but it might also just be a love for eating, too? Siffrin could relate, however. He also liked to eat.
Unless it was croissants. Ugh.
Thankfully, in the three weeks they've been traveling to Bambouche the party hasn't encountered a single croissant, something Siffrin was very relieved by.
They have been encountering a number of intruiging eating establishments. On such a long journey they didn't really have the resources or ability to carry a great deal of food on their persons, not to mention their lack of ability to keep any such food preserved, so they have been stopping at a number of restaurants and other such establishments to take care of their sustenance needs.
Bonnie was, of course, still their primary purveyor of The Food and Snacks, and so they often had first say in where the party might go to hang their figurative hats and fill their far less figurative, rumbling bellies.
Their current spot, however –a hole in the wall, family owned business by the name of "Of Broths and Stock-ing Heights"-- had actually been Odile's suggestion.
Odile and Bonnie currently sit across from each other, large ceramic bowl positioned between them. Inside is a dish that Siffrin can't recognize, but it's got some sort of meat… fish? In it. Oh, and it smells spicy. Very spicy. Sniff it out from across the table without even trying– that kind of spicy.
They use medium sized, wide, and flat bottomed spoons to eat with. Or, at least, Odile claimed they were spoons, specifically Ramen or soup spoons, when she explained what they were earlier. She also called them by a name Siffrin had never heard before; renge, short for chirirenge. Siffrin had assumed it was more, like, a really small ladle, but he was no expert. Apparently they were really common in Ka Bue, as was the dish the two were currently sharing.
"Ishikari nabe," Odile said to Bonnie, pointing at the contents of the bowl with her miniature ladle– no, her renge, yeah. "Which can be translated to Salmon Hot Pot."
Bonnie looked up from their bowl, smiled around their mouthful of spicy, spicy food, and said, predictably, "Because it's spicy, right?"
Odile clicked her tongue once, pleased. She nodded once, just on the right side of curt and said, "Yes, precisely, Boniface. Because it's spicy."
Siffrin considered shouting across the table in excitement over the pun that had just been ceremoniously revealed to them… but then they thought better of it, because that would be bad etiquette. There weren't a whole ton of people in the restaurant, maybe ten at most not including Siffrin's family, but they had just as much right as anyone else to enjoy their meals in peace without having to listen to Siffrin's incredibly witty, but very loud bouts of wordplay. Besides… Odile and Bonnie hardly appreciated their expert craftsmanship in such endeavors.
So, instead, Siffrin turns to their left. Turns, to their left, toward Isabeau. Opens their mouth, prepares to unleash a magnificent piece of witticism, and says, "Heh, instead of Hot Pot, it should be called Hot Shot because it's Boiling over–"
As they speak, Siffrin watches as that familiar expression grows across Isabeau's face, that amused, anticipating look that always came whenever he knew Siffrin was about to say something funny. Or pun-ny, more like. He leaned closer, closer, and his eyes narrow, but in a focused way. Chin against his hand, just… He's… staring at Siffrin as they talk, and Siffrin feels butterflies erupting in their stomach at the way he's looking at them because… it's intense. Intent. Just so. Much. Being seen like that.
Being seen. By Isabeau.
Then, Siffrin waits. And Isabeau's eyes crinkle with almost giddy, happy emotion. Hah, yes, the pun has landed. It has left the station and arrived at its destination! A laughing Isabeau, the final result. Yes! Good.
Tears at the corners of his eyes. His hand hits against the table as he starts to guffaw, loud and free. With the other, he wipes at his eyes. His pretty, pretty eyes.
From here Siffrin can see just how dark and pretty they are. Beautiful; Obsidian, void, lightless night sky, gorgeous eyes and– Siffrin flushed dark enough to look utterly foolish and ripped his gaze from Isabeau's before he could notice, before the crinkle in his eye could change its tune from amused to befuddled. Lost. Baffled by Siffrin's idiotic, foolish, stupid er, foolishness.
Then, there was that. There was that. Isabeau told them about his… his feelings, and since then things have been different. Well, different for Siffrin. Obviously, Isabeau already knew, they were his feelings, and so Siffrin doubted much had changed for him. But. Learning that, that one of their greatest friends, allies, could see them like that… it was a shock.
Should be a confidence boost, right? And yet, mostly, it has left Siffrin off balance and unfocused. After all, what if they– what if they…?
Hurt him. Then what? Then what?!
They hear it in Loop's voice– "Pick up that knife, Stardust. That's it, Stardust! Keep it close, Stardust, and when the time is right, jam it right into–" the thought stutters out in their mind, as if the voice has a mind of its own, as if it isn't just Siffrin thinking to themself in their own mental self talk while pretending it's Loop instead, and then just as suddenly the thought practically concludes itself with, "the table. Of course. I'm no monster."
A grind of their teeth. Temptation, screaming at them to bite their lips raw, until they bleed, sharp and tangy. Sort of like… soy sauce. Hm.
Isabeau looks worried.
He reached out, fingers just barely not grazing Siffrin's own atop and across the table. "Hey, you okay, Sif?" He asked, head tilting and, stars, he was worried.
Siffrin realized they were breathing a little hard. Unsteady. Heavy. Their other hand has clenched into a fist in their lap, and their chopstick was moments from snapping. Oh. Okay.
Okay, Sif. Breathe. In, and out.
Siffrin exhales, reopens his closed eyes, and smiles softly at Isabeau. "I'm fine."
Isabeau's head tilts, like one of those overgrown Vaugardian hounds they'd seen a whole pack of the week before who'd been in the employ of an elderly fisherman who liked trout just a little too much. The dogs were called seafarers, kept in the areas surrounding Bambouche as a way to more easily catch all manner of Aquatic life in the plethora of rivers, streams and ponds that littered the landscape on the way to the ocean bordering Bambouche on three sides.
One of them, Altoid, had been sleek, strong, built something like a tall, four-legged fortress. It was an excellent fisher, leader of the pack, and, also, it seemed to Siffrin at least, to have the silliest smile. They could remember clearly seeing it, doggy paddling through an estuary on the outskirts of Honfleur (a territory neighboring Bambouche), panting with its tongue lolling out and looking genuinely like it was having the time of its life. It was cute.
It also reminded them of Isabeau. Because… y'know. He had a cute… a silly smile. Yeah. And… oh, Isabeau was talking. Right now. Stars. How long had he been speaking? When did he start? How could Siffrin not notice? Oh, oh no. No. No no.
"--And, anywho, who could mind that, right?" Isabeau smiles warmly and Siffrin smiles and hopes it isn't strained and nervous because oh gosh, what are they talking about right now?
"Not me," Siffrin exclaims, laughing, voice cracking, and Isabeau looks more concerned than before. Erk. No. Mission not accomplished.
Before the talk can go on and Siffrin can stuff their cape even further into their own mouth like a dunce, they feel a tap on their shoulder. They turn and, oh, right, Mirabelle was seated right next to Siffrin. He's been… kind of ignoring her for a full several minutes as a result of his own embarrassment. An immense wave of guilt washes over Siffrin and he mentally and physically flinches. Okay. Okay, Siffrin, you're an awful friend but maybe if you listen extra close now you can sort of make up for that.
"Yeah, Mira?" Siffrin says, leaning in extra close on their elbow and making sure that Mirabelle knows she now has Siffrin's undivided attention. He even makes sure not to blink except so his eyes don't burn.
Mirabelle laughs awkwardly, waves a tiny wave, then taps Siffrin's other shoulder, the one faced away from her. Which is confusing. But fine. Siffrin can handle some confusion. Then she tells them, "I didn't actually grab your attention to um, to talk." She adds, sheepishly, as if she doesn't want to make Siffrin feel silly (which is impossible, Sif is already the silliest and feels no shame about it whatsoever), "Something's happening. Over there."
She points over Siffrin's shoulder. Siffrin blinks in confusion, but turns his head and sees… Bonnie. Odile. Bonnie and Odile.
"What's–?" Oh, wait! There's a third person. Siffrin can't recognize them immediately, but a few more moments and they realize they've seen that face before. Um…
"Where have I seen–?"
"He owns the restaurant!" Mirabelle whisper shouts in a rush, verbally barreling right over Siffrin in her shock and excitement. Siffrin's own eyes widened and he says, "What? Really??" In an agitated whisper all his own.
Isabeau leans over the table with both elbows. "What are we whispering about?" He whispers to the pair across from him.
"The restaurant owner is at our table–" Mirabelle began.
"--And he's talking to Bonnie," Siffrin concluded.
"Aww, our lil' Bon Bon is all grown up, huh? Moving up in the world?" Isabeau said in jest.
Siffrin jokingly shushed Isabeau, and, after a moment, Mirabelle joined in. Isabeau laughed, but did indeed quiet down, also looking across the table to take in the amazing scene before them.
Bonnie looks confused, but, intrigued. "There's a dish you want me to try."
The restaurant owner nods. He's a friendly looking fellow, with dark hair like Bonnie's or Mirabelle's, though straighter with only a slight wave. His hands are slender, nimble, and like Siffrin he's probably great with knives, and his manner of dress is pretty simple besides a somewhat stained apron he's likely owned for years.
He looks… affable. Approachable. Man of the people, and all that. So it's not a shock when he begins to speak, and approaches doing so with care.
"Yes, but don't feel obligated," He begins, being very agreeable. "I just… never thought I'd have one of Vaugarde's saviors in my restaurant… and one from Bambouche, no less!" He sounds incredibly jovial, which makes Siffrin smile.
"How… how do you know where I'm from?" Bonnie asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"Well," The restaurant owner laughed somewhat nervously, but not, like, I did something wrong, nervous. Just, hope I don't upset the world-saving preteen, nervous. "...Just about everyone in the surrounding area knows. It's heartening, seeing one of our own succeed like that. Especially one so young."
He was… decidedly not. Young, that is. He was closer to Odile in terms of age, mid thirties to late forties.
Odile leaned closer to Bonnie and muttered, none too quietly, "Besides, our entire biographies are practically plastered across every independent newspaper and local tabloid."
Bonnie blinked in shock. This was news to them. "What?!"
It was news to Sif, too.
"Wait, so… we're like… celebrities?" Isabeau inquired softly, quietly. It was not something to be questioned too loudly, lest it be called lack of humility.
"Oh, yes. I thought you two knew?" Mirabelle answered. "After that person approached me, um, with their crisis of faith?"
Isabeau shook his head quickly, looking again like that adorable seafarer dog trying to get water out of its fur. "No! We thought they saw your brooch and knew you were a Housemaiden!"
"Oh? I mean, well, maybe? I didn't ask." Mirabelle frowned slightly, "I just assumed they knew me from the magazine Odile showed me–"
"What magazine?" Isabeau inquired.
"She didn't–?"
"No! She didn't… have you guys been keeping secrets from us?" Isabeau exclaimed, making sure to put a huge emphasis on the word secrets while he pouted at Mirabelle. "Oh Crab, you were!"
Mirabelle held her hands up in silent defense when Isabeau pointed an exaggerative, accusing finger in her direction. "Noo! That's not– I thought she showed everyone! I had no idea!"
"Secret Keeper! What do you have to say for yourself?" Isabeau began to snicker, a sound he tried to keep in.
Mirabelle placed her hands together as if begging for forgiveness. "Please, Isabeau, have mercy. Remember the Beauty Alliance… the Funny Noises Appreciation Crew?"
"Hmm."
"Find it in your heart to forgive me."
"Okay! Sure." Isabeau chirped cheerily.
Siffrin directed their attention back across the table,, where he saw Bonnie accepting something from the restaurant owner. A small basket, filled with round little treats. Chocolates, maybe?
"What do we say, Boniface?" Odile asked.
"Thanks!" Bonnie exclaimed. And that was that.
~~~•°◇°•~~~
The next morning the party set out bright and early. Mirabelle had meditations and prayers to complete, and Odile, as always, wanted to get started early to make sure they made good time.
With luck, they would make it to Bambouche's border today.
Once they really get moving, Siffrin falls back to walk with Bonnie. It was always nice to check in with Bonnie. And, something had caught his eye yesterday, something that… Okay, yup, they still had it.
Siffrin reached a hand out to Bonnie. They raise a brow at him, but continue to chew silently for several moments longer before saying, "What?"
"Can I have one?" He asked, pointing at the small, round confections in Bonnie's hands. They frowned at him in that way they did, and narrowed their eyes. "Why?" They asked.
Siffrin offered a silly smile, then said the silly little joke right on the tip of their tongue, already anticipating Bonnie's eye roll and scoff of exasperation. It was part of the fun, part of the game. Or at least Siffrin was pretty sure it was. At this point he knew they didn't hate him. At least… not like he thought. Not for the reasons he thought. Not…. Not at all. They didn't hate him.
"Walk Tax," Siffrin said, smirking.
Bonnie huffed. "Walk Tax! What's that?"
"Tax, for walking with you. I get one of those… um, candies? And you get my excellent company and jokes for the duration of today's travel."
Bonnie hummed in thought, before eventually nodding. "Okay… I give you two, and no bad puns." Bonnie offered, excellent negotiater that they were.
Siffrin feigned shock and concern. "But all of my puns are egg-cellent!"
"No! No puns!" Bonnie shouted, which earned a shhh from Odile and a laugh from Mirabelle and Isabeau.
Siffrin immediately acquiesced. "Okay, okay, no puns! Promise."
Bonnie crossed their arms. "Hmph. Good."
Siffrin reached his hand out, and Bonnie deposited two rounded confections into Siffrin's waiting palm. "Thank you for your business," Siffrin said, which got a small giggle from Bonnie.
He looked down at the food stuffs he'd just received. They'd gotten his attention in the first place because Siffrin was pretty sure he'd seen Bonnie eating them yesterday, at the restaurant. They were soft under Siffrin's touch, not entirely yielding with a very slight firmness. Siffrin could see something come off on his dark gloves, something light… some kind of flour, based on the texture. It coated the little round things, which were brown, and about an inch squared in size. Perfect to pop in one's mouth in a single bite.
Siffrin did just that, and… huh. Interesting. There was a filling, chocolately, but maybe not exactly chocolate. The outer coating was soft and chewy but unfamiliar to Siffrin. Wow. That was pretty good. Huh.
"This is from the Broth spot, yeah?" Siffrin asked.
Bonnie nodded. They kicked a rock as the pair passed. "Yeah. The chef guy wanted me to try… said they were named after me."
It was Siffrin's turn to raise a brow. So this is what he saw Bonnie eating. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. He called them Bon Bon's Mochi Treat," Bonnie narrowed their eyes at Siffrin and added, "That's a pun, by the way. Bon Bons are chocolates and my name is Bonnie. Oh and Mochi is uh, I dunno. Something."
"That's cool," Siffrin said, and he meant it.
"It's got rice in it… or something. I think." Bonnie shrugged. "I'll ask Dile."
Siffrin took a bite out of the second, savoring the way the flavor spread across his tongue. "Is it a Ka Buan thing?" Siffrin asked, since that seemed the most likely reason Odile would know while Bonnie and Siffrin had never heard of it.
"Yea. The chef guy went there like, once, and really liked it. Said that nobody ever goes there so it's really hard to find au– au-tent-ic dishes here."
"Authentic?"
Bonnie said, "Authenic."
Siffrin laughed. "Close enough."
