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flower-seeks-the-moon · 3 months ago

Text

fandom: the house in fata morgana

relationships: michel bollinger/giselle

characters: michel bollinger, giselle

words: 1000

Written for ficwip's 1000 words challenge, using this month's image prompt.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

She retraces the steps back towards that old mansion with a patience borne out of a thousand years of waiting; the memories that guide her are like a faded old map, leading her towards these strangely obscure, beautiful places in the world.

It's a paltry consolation from the world towards the maid. Giselle likes to think of it that way, lest the despair come creeping back with every gorgeous but soulless old ruin that she stumbles into.

She wants her heart to remain pure and untainted by the bitterness she and him have endured, in this life; he deserves a woman who can smile as brightly as the sun he used to fear, didn't he?

So. No need to be disappointed when the old mansions and towers she seeks out don't hold who she misses.

She'll find him someday, whether she has to travel to all the dilapidated old mansions. Be it France or Portugal, the United Kingdom or the United States.

Her friends and family think her an odd one. An eccentric, with her hobby of traveling and seeking destinations far off the beaten path.

“I wonder...” She says, the seawater rising around her sandaled feet. “Could she have felt less despair if she was able to hear the cries of the seagulls and smelled the salt in the air from her window?”

She would have complained about the noise, and you'd have been the unfortunate listener to that for decades, he tells her, his voice deep and resonant, untouched by the sounds of the wind rushing past her ears and whipping long, ebony hair about her head.

Giselle isn't even certain if he sounds nearly as handsome. She cannot confirm until she sees him again and holds him in her arms, but she'll have to content herself with her imagination.

She has to. Her fingers remain steady and certain as she ties her hair back. Didn't she used to tie his up when it got in the way of their chores around the mansion?

“Oh, I'm sure even a catankerous old witch's heart would soften if she listened to the ocean.”

Morgana never got to see the ocean, even during Bestia's time.

She hopes that girl would get to see the golden wheat fields that the Italian was muttering about in his final days on his deathbed.

His feet don't leave impressions in the ground as he walks alongside her, their feet carrying them towards the tower. She leaves a single set of footprints in the sand as she hums a tune that she remembers by heart.

Is that Nellie's song? He looks at her, sunlight streaking past the curtain of white hair cascading around his shoulders. His long, pale lashes lower in thought. There's a faint curve to his lips, like a rare flower.

Giselle resolves to make him smile as much as possible. Every day. Forever, until his cheeks burn from all the effort and laugh lines appear around his mouth and eyes. She didn't get to have her fill of that smile the last time.

Maybe she won't ever, even in this life.

“You remember that?“ She asks, delighted. “Ehe, she always had a pretty voice. She wasn't Morgana, but she was such a charming young mistress.”

The tower hugs the side of a cliff. It is a nice tower, but it's not their tower.

She knew it the second she caught sight of the foundation in the distance, but today is such a nice day for strolling and enjoying the warm weather with the man she loves by her side.

Inside the tower lies a spiral staircase. He offers her an insubstantial hand as they walk up the steps, and she wills herself to feel the warmth of his palm against hers as her gut tightens in a remnant of the fear she once felt.

The top of the tower is empty except for a rickety old chair and what looks like a knife left behind by some other explorers like her.

She carves their names into the wall, by the window, as he watches.

Giselle? He says. When you find me again, can we hold hands and walk like this together?

“You owe me a thousand years of dates, master,” Giselle says, slipping into old habits as she breathes the sea from the window. “Holding hands is the least you can do.”

Her eyes crinkle at the corners. “Don't pass out from embarrassment, okay?”

I would never let go of your hand again in this lifetime, Giselle.

When she looks behind her, there's nothing but empty space.

Giselle traces the faint M x G, encircled with a heart, and decides to take a few more snapshots of this place. She has a scrapbook of all the places she wants him to see with her.

He looks up at the tower, squinting past the faint discomfort of being out in the sunshine. The sand is getting under the soles of his feet and between his toes. How did she convince him to wear sandals, again?

The radiant grin that greets him when he looks over his shoulder makes him shake his head. Of course, that's how.

Giselle sighs happily. “This was one of my favorites. Come on, I've got something to show you up inside!”

Her hand tightens around his as she leads him up the tower.

Michel's chest feels stuffy; how many spiral staircases has Giselle walked up, alone, searching for him in all these lonely places in the world? At least their hands are warm this time, not cold and clammy from fear and sweat.

The top of the tower is nothing special in his eyes. Not until she's inside it. Then, it's memorable.

She leads him to the window, and a dubious grin stretches his lips when he catches a small detail beside it.

“Oh, Morgana would hate this even more and she's going to call us cringe, and you know it.”

“Wanna take a photo and send it to her?”

fin.

#the house in fata morgana #fatamoru #michel bollinger #giselle fatamoru #gischel #luna's fics #fanfiction

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lucifleeuur · 2 years ago

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A Chance Encounter - Chapter 1 - 3,096 words, 17k characters

Chapter 2

After an out of the ordinary surge in customers comes to the Cafe, Michel comes to the aide of Giselle to rush out orders. What he doesn’t expect, however, is the familiar face he encounters among the crowd.

Takes place shortly after the events of The House in Fata Morgana: Reincarnation. Plain text under the read more

When one thinks of a café, what comes to mind? A quiet break, a small shop selling baked goods, coffee, perhaps. No one would be faulted for thinking of this, in fact, quite the opposite is true. It's what is expected of most; and for this café in question, that was normally the case. However, a rather uncharacteristic cacophony of noise and chatter filled this usually serene space.

Two women appeared to dance behind the bar, moving quickly yet efficiently to appease this sudden burst of people. Coffees were poured and plated, baked goods served and replaced on their quickly emptying shelves, a lone waiter the one rushing these deliveries to the tables, both inside and out. His steps, however, were much more clumsy; quite nearly spilling or dropping what he held in his hands with every order, barely managing to catch everything at the last moment. It was apparent he was not used to this work.

"As clumsy as he is... that waiter is kind of..." "Beautiful?" "Yeah... There's no other word to describe it, y'know? Though, maybe 'otherworldly' works too." "Oh at this point you should just ask for his number then if you're using fancy words like that!" "Oh c'mon he's at work I could never!"

The man in question was far too preoccupied with his current task to pay the idle chatter much mind, cleaning off tables that new customers had already seated themselves at. The whole place was working like a well lubricated machine. The waiter once more approached the counter, prepared to deliver yet another order to see... Nothing.

"Oh, thank goodness I could catch you Michel! We got one last order for a table outside, and then we should be all caught up!" "I'm surprised you didn't eat shit out there, if I'm honest!"

Michel, realizing he now had a chance to breath, collapsed on to the counter with a loud sigh of relief. He panted heavily, his body not used to this level of physical exertion. One of the ladies behind the counter, his wife Giselle, let out a small giggle as she approached, patting him gently on the head.

"You did a good job out there, not one complaint or anything! After this, you can sit down in the back, okay?"

Michel nodded silently, his breathing still quite laboured as Giselle returned to her work. He laid there in silence for a moment, the cool wood of the countertop soothing his bright red face, almost of a similar hue to his eyes. He raised an arm to wipe at his forehead, his bangs clinging to the sweat drops that had formed, wet chunks of white hair sticking out in weird directions as it dried.

The sound of glass being set beside him on the counter awoke him from his stupor, picking up the glass of water that was handed to him and looking around for where it needed to go on instinct.

"No no no! That's for you! Take a seat for a sec, it takes me a bit to make a latte anyways!" Giselle smiled, a look of concern on her face. "I know you're not used to doing this kind of work, so you gotta stay hydrated!"

"I... would prefer if you could say something like that without smiling..." Michel, however, was also smiling himself. He knew she was just worried, and him making jokes of his own in response was his way of showing her that he was just fine. The two had been married for quite some time, after all, so they understood their small eccentricities better than an outsider might. On top of this, the two shared a rather long and storied history together, a story across centuries and many lives. But now is not the time for this tale. That is a part of their story far behind them, and this a continuation of said story. Together.

"Alrighty that should do it! That's gonna go to the gentleman outside. He's got this SUPER cute little dog with him, and he's pretty big and burly too! Hard to miss, I promise!" Michel was handed the cup by the other girl working the bar, Maria.

He accepted the cup with a nod, looking down at the beverage with a confused look on his face. The foam of the latte appeared to be a small cat, sleeping atop the coffee serenely. Whiles it was quite cute, he was still a little perplexed.

"You're... sure that's the right customer?" "Oh what, cus he's a big tough guy he can't like the cute little kitty drink? C'mon Michel you're better than that!" Maria laughed, giving Michel a gentle push on the shoulder. Enough to tease but not enough to put him off balance. "I... suppose you're right. Sorry." He smiled meekly back at Maria, turning towards the front door and heading to the outside seating area.

Michel stepped outside of the café, taking a deep breath of the fresh spring air. It was overcast, making it a little easier on his eyes unprotected. The forecast was calling for rain later that day, leaving a pleasant scent of rain in the air before it had even started. The fact that anyone had decided that it was worth it to sit outside when the rain could start at any moment was a shock to Michel, but no deeper of a shock once he rounded the wall out front and caught a glance at the customer he was to deliver to.

Reminding himself mentally that this was an order for a customer was the only thing that stopped him from dropping the cup right out of his hands, his eyes widened in shock, his body frozen in place. He stared across the courtyard, staring directly at the man he was to deliver it to.

He was tall, extremely well built, and had a rather tiny dog as Maria had described. This was indeed the man. However, there were other details she naturally did not go in to, as they were of course things that were not necessary to define him among the crowd. His cropped blond hair, his well groomed facial hair, his blue eyes...

"Di...di......er...?"

He blinked, shaking his head. There's no way... There's no way he would remember, right? Of course he wouldn't. He and Giselle were outliers, and it was for the best for most of them, he was sure Didier was no different. Michel approached slowly, partially to be sure he didn't spill the drink in his hand but also due in part to his apprehension of approaching his eldest brother after so long. As he approached, Didier turned his head up to Michel, a smile coming to his face.

"Oh whoa this is much cuter than I thought it was going to be! It's impressive!"

Michel placed the cup before him, a twinge of disappointment in his heart. 'He really doesn't remember... Perhaps that's for the best.' he thought, forcing a smile.

"Just let me know if you need anything else, Didier."

The pair froze, Michel's eyes snapping wide open. How could he be so stupid! He was just telling himself how Didier did not remember their past. This was only going to be just as off-putting as it was when Giselle said as much to Maria. He needed to come up with something, anything, something witty.

"E-Er I mean u-uh..." "..." "I'm... sorry sir um... You just look... uh..." "No uh... You're... right. That's me but uh... Oh! I guess you're a fan of Panda's Instagram, huh?"

Instagram? Michel wasn't entirely familiar with most social media apps, frankly that was more of Giselle's wheelhouse than anything. He had a passing familiarity with Instagram due to Giselle stating the café had an allegedly 'huge presence' there and on some other video sharing site. Tick Tock she said? He couldn't be sure. On top of this... Who was this 'Panda' he spoke of? As he was about to enquire for more information, Didier leaned over, picking up the rather tiny dog that had been politely sitting on the ground beside him.

"Oh t-that must have been where... Ahaha..."

Michel stared at the little dog being presented to him. He was not entirely familiar with dogs as he had always considered himself much more of a cat person, but even he could admit that the tiny creature before him was quite adorable. It had a long white curly coat, the excess fur on its face tied up in to a sparkly red ribbon. Large wet brown eyes sparkled at him, Michel noting the rather tiny and frilly red dress with white spots it wore. On top of all of this, it wore a bright pink harness with matching leash. Absolutely not the kind of dog Michel thought Didier might own by any stretch of his imagination.

"Funnily enough I only made the page to share her with my gym buddies, but it blew way out of proportion. Can't say I've ever met a fan before though." "O-Oh yeah I'm a big fan...! Check for posts e-everyday!"

Beads of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. How long could he keep this façade up? If he asked even one question, the whole identity he had built up would come crumbling down. He prayed nothing of the sort would come up, and it would appear that just for today, God was on his side.

"Oh Michel! You forgot the... Oh... Oh that dog really IS tiny and adorable! Ohhh can I say hi?!"

Giselle had run out with a very small espresso cup filled with whipped cream on a tiny saucer, placing it on the table beside them all. Didier nodded, handing the small creature over to Giselle. The moment she lifted the small creature in to her arms, it squirmed and writhed in excitement, giving excited little licks to her face and whining happily.

"Oh oh yes yes hi! Hello hello yes hi!" Giselle giggled, doing everything in her power to keep the squirmy tiny animal in her arms. Michel couldn't help but smile at the sight as Didier rose from his seat to help Giselle with the task of wrangling the ever loving Panda. "Sorry she loves meeting new people, she can get a bit wound up." "Oh no, no problem at all! She's so cute!! What's her name?"

It left a strange feeling in Michel's heart to watch Giselle and Didier have a normal conversation with one another. In another life, perhaps this is something he dreamt of. A future with Giselle and his brothers, one he was almost fully convinced was beyond his reach, and yet... It filled him with a bittersweet pang of sadness, knowing that the Didier before him was the brother he loved once upon a time who had no memories of him. Uncharacteristically, he spoke before the words quite reached his brain.

"You said... gym buddies. You... go to the gym a lot?" Michel asked, watching Didier gently take Panda from Giselle. "Hm? Oh, yeah, all the time! I do a lot of personal training and the like. You a gym rat too or something?" "Who Michel? Oh absolutely not, he gets winded just walking up one flight of stairs! He looks like a tomato by the time he gets to our front door!"

Giselle giggled, resting a hand on Michel's arm lovingly. Michel grimaced slightly at the statement. Not due to it being inaccurate, but rather just how it made him feel in the presence of a man like Didier. Whiles not by such a drastic margin, the man was taller than Michel, but that was not what made him insecure. It was how... wide... he was. The man was a brick wall of muscle, as he had been in their previous life. Michel recalled his childhood back then, of his dreams and his wishes back then, of the body he wished he would have as he got older. Was it insecurity he was feeling? Not quite, it was something else. Some feeling he couldn't define hung like an iron ball in his gut, painfully pulling at his heartstrings as it swayed back and forth. An itch at the back of his mind, a twitch at the back of his eyes, squeezing his face in to a pained grimace.

"Oh wow, really? That... Sounds problematic. Maybe I could help, if you want of course. Like I said, I'm a personal trainer, I could start at something more your pace and we could work around what you're good with and then go from there?" "Oh um I... I don't know..."

Of course Michel wished to spend more time with Didier, he had expressed as much back then at the end of his time in that house. But at the gym? The idea of himself in clothing appropriate for that setting was unimaginable for him. Allowing others to see just how thin he was wasn't something he was exactly thrilled to think about, especially in a place where people would certainly be looking at him like... That.

"Oh c'mon Michel it would be good for you! More stamina would be uh... Y’know... Good! Yeah!" Giselle beamed up at him. Even under overcast skies it felt as though the best parts of the sun's light shone through her eyes, her emerald eyes glittering with joy, rendering him powerless to almost any request of hers, a fact she knew all too well.

"I... Suppose I could... try." "Well you don't seem a hundred percent on it so I'll tell you what."

Didier placed the small dog on the ground, sliding his hand through the loop at the end of the leash before taking a seat once again. He lifted a gym bag from beside him from the ground, placing it in to his lap and digging through its contents. Pulling out a rather simple black wallet, he reached inside, pulling out an equally simple looking card and handing it to Michel.

"Call, text, e-mail, whichever is easiest for you. We can schedule something sometime if you're sure about it. How's that sound?"

Michel accepted the card, taking a closer look at it. Sure enough, it was Didier, he even had the same last name as before. Didier Bollinger. Giselle peaked over at the card, blinking in surprise upon reading it closer. "Oh... huh..." Giselle's brow furrowed as she looked at the card, her eyes running over the text over and over again in confusion.

"Oh um... yes uh. I will... let you know! Thank you and um... So sorry to interrupt your lunch. Please, excuse us." "Oh not at all. Thanks for the coffee!"

Didier gave a friendly wave, grabbing the small espresso cup off the table and gently placing it on the ground. It would appear the whipped cream cup was for... Panda. Giselle leaned over for a moment, giving a small wave to the little dog as she dug in to her delicious treat, before turning and joining Michel back in the café.

Michel gestured for Giselle to join him in the back, away from Maria and the other customers. Upon her shutting the door, she immediately jumped in to a panicked spiel.

"That was your brother, Michel! That was Didier wasn't it?! The same Didier! The one who wrote that letter! The one who... who... oh..." Giselle's look of excitement crumbled, remembering all too well the last thing Didier ever did for Michel in their past lives. Or perhaps, more accurately, the last thing Didier ever did TO Michel in their past lives.

"I... wanted to see him again, Giselle. I have said as much I just... Wasn't expecting to see either one of them like this... If... Ever again if I'm honest." "W-well then it's a good thing you got that card, right? I mean... You said you wanted to reunite with them, so... Maybe this is a good thing! Take it at your own pace and reach out when you feel most comfortable to... Right?"

Michel nodded, pulling the card out of his pocket once again and looking it over. Clearly he was making some kind of face, as Giselle placed her hands gently on his cheeks, cupping them lovingly.

"It's okay, Michel. Maybe... it's best he... doesn't... remember. You told me that the Didier you saw back at that house was... Consumed by guilt, right? Maybe you can just... start over? Have a new life and new relationship together, one on much better terms than last time, yeah?"

Michel stared at Giselle for a moment, blinking, before his face softened. His lips curled up in to a slight smile, raising one hand to hold Giselle's and leaning in to her touch.

"Perhaps you're right, Giselle. You... usually are."

Giselle smiled in turn, lowering her hands down to his waist and pulling him in to a tight embrace. "It will be better this time, I just know it."

Michel nodded silently, returning the hug with one arm, raising the other to look at the card once again. Didier Bollinger, personal trainer. A phone number, an email, and... some names beside what he assumed were social media websites. Holding the card in his hand felt strange, reading the words 'personal trainer' over and over in his mind, the feeling he had felt earlier began to return. He was sure he had felt this before, but when? As the thought began to take root, it was immediately plucked from the base as Giselle tightened her grip on him, the thoughts and feelings dissipating as though they were never there to begin with.

"Well I have to get back to work! There's still plenty of customers out there even if we aren't getting anybody else coming in! Can't spend all day cuddling up with you... sadly." Giselle released her embrace with a smile, giving a gentle and brief rub to his chest. "I assume you'll... Still be helping out?" It was less a question and more a request, something Michel understood all too well.

"Yes. Of course I will. I would be happy to." He stuffed the card back in to his pocket, joining the ever smiling Giselle in returning to the floor. The thoughts of the events of that day fading away in his mind as the day passed. The rain began to fall, washing away the strange feelings in his heart and mind. He would think about everything else later. Right now, he had Giselle, he had their café. All a small piece of their happily ever after.

#The House in Fata Morgana #FataMoru #Gischel #kind of #The House in Fata Morgana Reincarnation #FataMoru Reincarnation

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