all my tomorrows

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“You’re not wrong,” she shook her head, blonde waves spilling over her shoulders at the movement, and she glanced briefly over their linked hands, her fingers reflexively flexing in the tiniest of squeezes. Bee couldn’t help smiling over the words. “And whatever else we might be able to pack. Maybe I’ll leave out an emergency bag with all the things I might think I need for times like these,” she found herself pondering. With wide eyes, she watched as Bastien snatched up a bottle, worrying her lower lip between her teeth before she agreed. “It does have this warming up quality,” the sentence trailed off. “It might also account for entertainment.”

“An emergency kit might be a good idea. Though until this happened I didn’t even know avalanches happened in this area- so hopefully this is the only time we’ll be in this situation.” As Bas spoke, he pulled a bottle of white wine off the shelf- some ludicrously expensive bottle, but he was sure nobody would realize it was even missing. “Two birds with one stone, we warm up and it gives us something to do.” He took a sip before handing the bottle to Bee. Like teenagers sneaking liquor from their parents, without glasses they were left to drink from the bottle. It probably wasn’t a great idea, but it was keeping Bee distracted from her panic, which was, in his opinion, more important right now. 

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Bee automatically moved her hands to cover his. Not that her hands were much warmer, but she could try to make him feel better. “We were not cut for this weather,” she agreed, her head shaking from side to side. “I wish I had been wearing gloves today,” she sighed in her complaint. Bee’s eyes widened in their orbits at the suggestion, and she worried her lower lip between her teeth. “On a safe bet, I would say eleven. Maybe twelve,” she gave him a meaningful look. “But I suppose these are desperate times, aren’t they?”

“I don’t think anyone is cut out for this weather,” he replied, “least of all us,” he added. Bas moved one of his hands to cover Bee’s, in an attempt to warm her up- futile, since they were both complaining about the cold. “At least now we know for next winter, gloves at all times,” he said. He laughed at her answer, though he nodded. “Yeah, probably not very smart,” he agreed, though even as he spoke he stood up to pick a bottle off the shelf. “But it would help us warm up, wouldn’t it?” 

Taking the food from the chef, Lexi looked down at it almost cautiously. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Bastien, it was that he didn’t trust his stomach right now. He hadn’t eaten much in the past few days so there was no telling what it could take. “Thank you.” There was brick still raised from one side of the building, a place where he could sit and try to pick through a few bites, and looked up after he took his seat. “Do you want to join? Have you eaten?”

Taking a moment to open the container of food, he shrugged softly at the question. In truth, Lexi hadn’t been paying much attention to the whole process, he was basically stuck in a mechanical state with few moments of emotion breaking through. “Fine…I think. Most of it is just seeing what can be saved at this point. The food is appreciated though, I am sure. Some of them have no means to eat right now so you are doing a lot.”

Bas was taken aback by the offer- he and Alexi weren’t exactly friends, and he’d fully expected the housekeeper to accept the food and move on. “Not since breakfast- maybe I should join you.” And with that, he sat down next to Alexi. 

He nodded, looking around at the damaged buildings that surrounded them. He’d never experienced anything like this before, and he hadn’t expected this much destruction. “I hope it’s more salvageable than it looks.” The village had become a home of sorts. Though Bastien didn’t live directly in Khatanga, he’d spent time here, enough that seeing it in this state hurt. “The people here have done so much for those of us who moved in when the royals did... I’m just glad I can do something for them.” 

What could they do to pass the time? It wasn’t as though finding a distraction while trapped in a wine cellar as the result of an avalanche was easy. Sighing, Claire walked away just slightly in order to take a seat on the floor with her back resting against the wall. it certainly wasn’t the cleanest place to rest but it wasn’t as though there were any options. She wasn’t going to continue to stand for hours.

“We can talk….I guess.” She wasn’t much of a talker but, again, their options were limited. “You can tell me a bit about young Bastien.”

“You guess?” Bastien repeated. “You wound me, Claire, you don’t have to sound that unenthusiastic about talking to me.” But even despite the teasing, he sat down next to her. The floor was freezing, and he was sure he’d regret sitting down, but he also didn’t know how long they would be down here, so he might as well make himself comfortable. 

“There isn’t much to tell,” he admitted. “I’m the middle child of divorced parents, so as you can probably imagine, I was a bit of a handful when I was young,” he added, after a pause to think about what to say. I started to mellow out once I got into cooking, it was something I did one-on-one with my grandmother, so I wasn’t so desperate for attention anymore,” he shrugged. “And what about young Claire?” 

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Bee would never say this out loud, but realizing he would have been alone made her feel better. She didn’t want to be jealous of his possible companion, but that nagging twinge was still there nonetheless. “Well, then maybe this is just the next best thing,” it wasn’t, but she was here, and he was there. And she forced a smile upon her face as they concluded Gio must have been well. Wherever he was. “I just don’t want to be that girl,” she shook her head. The last thing she wanted was that reputation preceding her. Maybe if Bee wasn’t as attentive to him, she might have missed the action. “How are you holding up?”

“Maybe,” he agreed, with a small smile. It was hard to be optimistic, trapped in the wine cellar with no real heat source and no way out, but having an old friend by his side helped. I’m fine,” he replied automatically. “I’m a bit cold,” he confessed. “But I’ll live, don’t worry about me.” He looked at the shelves filled with bottles, and back to Bee. “So... scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea would it be for us to open a bottle of wine?” It was a joke, and an attempt to distract Bee from her anxiety, but even as he said it he was unsure if that would work.  

The faintest of chuckles escaped Claire’s lips as she shook her head. “No, I don’t think that would be the best idea. It’s a shame though, we really need something here that would do well to keep us warm,” she murmured. For a woman who was good under pressure and didn’t really panic, save for trying to break the heavy door down, she was unable to think of a solution.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, letting out a sigh. “If the glass gets too hot, the bottles could explode and then the alcohol would come in contact with the fire…” she trailed off, knowing that she had probably made her point. “We can light the labels on fire I think. Maybe there’s something non-flammable around for a pit.”

"I hadn't thought of the possibility of the bottles exploding. I'm so glad one of us is smart enough to think of these things," he said. Had Claire not been there to poke holes in his (admittedly dangerous and stupid) ideas, he probably would've ended up inadvertently setting the whole cellar on fire.

"I... Honestly have no idea. It seems like all that's in here is bottles and bottles of alcohol." He thought for a moment. "Something metal would do, but..." He was a bit frustrated with himself- he just couldn't seem to come up with anything remotely useful.

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Something in Bastien’s words caused Bee to glance at him wonderingly. “By yourself…?” Her eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. Some might have thought there was criticism in her question, when, truthfully, it was her curiosity getting the best out of her. “I know, I know,” she nodded. “If I’m doing okay, his chances of success seem much higher,” she attempted a chuckle. “Ooh,” she prolonged the vowel. “I don’t trust myself around all this alcohol,” drinking wasn’t her problem. Holding her tongue was an entirely different thing. Bee crossed her fingers and held them up for him to see. “I don’t like throwing in tantrums, but I don’t know how much more I can handle.”

He shrugged. "Yeah," he admitted. "I thought going it alone would be best, but I don't mind being here with you." Bas nodded. "Exactly. If we're okay, then Gio definitely is." He looked around the dark room, though he couldn't make out much, and if there was a way out he was sure Claire would've found it already, considering how hard she'd tried to open the door. "I don't think any of us would judge you for throwing a tantrum, Bee. This is... an awful situation. But I know we'll be okay. We have to be." Though even as he spoke, he was shivering.

The words rung a bell of recognition in his mind and Alexi realized who was standing there. The chef at the castle wasn’t someone he had spoken to often, usually just putting in food requests from the royalty or in passing as he cleaned the kitchens after a royal had made a mess, but he should have recognized him right away. The comment along with the packages he could see did do one thing though; Alexi was thoroughly ashamed that he had yelled at the man. “Um, I am not hungry. But thank you for the offer.” 

The words came even as his stomach started to rumble. He probably should eat now that he thought about it, having worked through lunch and leaving the church before breakfast had been served. Sighing, he set the sledge hammer down and moved towards the man. “Actually, maybe I should have something. I would only cause more trouble if I passed out while working on this.”

Bas was about to argue, tell Alexi to eat and that he'd feel better, when the housekeeper relented. He smiled and nodded, and handed Alexi a foil container and disposable cutlery. "It's pasta carbonara. I figured, with everyone working so hard, I couldn't go wrong with some carbs and protein."

He was trying to stay off the subject of the disaster and of the lives lost: he didn't know Alexi all that well, and he was fairly sure the other man wouldn't be terribly open to discussing it with a near stranger. "How are repairs going? I'm not very good with this stuff, hence-" he gestured to the food.

Claire nodded her head. “Luck seems to be on both of our sides,” she replied. At least for the moment. Now all they could do was wait to see what would come next. It had become painfully clear that there was no breaking out of the cellar, they’d just have to wait for rescue. Waiting with her fate in someone else’s hands was not something she enjoyed.

“No,” she admitted with a shake of her head. “But you’re right about the labels.” Thinking about it, she made her way over to some of the wine bottles. “We can collect a good amount of labels and make our own firepit. We do need something to keep the fire from spreading though.”

“There might be something stronger than wine in here somewhere that we could set on fire, but I don’t think a molotov cocktail is the solution we’re looking for, either,” he said, as though he were contemplating it, though he was entirely kidding- maybe not the time or place to be joking around, but he couldn’t help it. 

“As for a fire pit, I’m not sure what we could use to keep the fire contained- there isn’t much of anything here except bottles.” He flicked the lighter to life, using the light to get a better look at their surroundings, briefly- if only to confirm that there was pretty much nothing but bottles of alcohol as far as the eye could see. “If we could maybe stack the bottles or attach them together somehow, we might be able to make a firepit out of them?” 

“No, don’t,” Lilli said, taking a deep breath as soon as he apologized. She shook her head as she looked at her destroyed shop. “They will,” she answered. “Hopefully soon. So for now, I asked to move to the castle so I can repair this and fix and make clothes once I get a chance for a break.”

“Good. I’d offer to help but I’m... well, the only way I’ve helped so far is by making food,” he admitted. “So if you need a meal, I’m your guy. I don’t think I could help you with rebuilding the shop or with making clothes, though,” he said with a chuckle. “How are you holding up? Castle is treating you well, I hope?” 

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“I don’t know why it happens,” Bee added, her head moving from side to side. “But… I think it’s almost something moldy. Or something like it,” she shrugged. Hot had always made it think it smelled stuffy, whatever that might mean. “Were you cooking something that required wine?” she was inquisitive as her eyes tried to scan his face. “I thought I was following Gio,” she sighed the explanation. “And I don’t know if we got separated or what. And I thought you might wish to tell me that the bright side in this was that there was wine,” she smiled. “We won’t be here for too long, will we?” she wondered.

“Guess it did. Life just let me die.” An awful joke, one he wouldn’t understand because he didn’t know her history, but it was fitting nonetheless. “I guess you can thank fate that you weren’t out of the castle today. You were close enough to safety.”  She was grateful for that as Bastien was one of the few people that Claire actually liked. It just led to guilt that she was using and deceiving him. 

“Now that’s something I have,” she replied, pulling out her lighter. “Setting the wine on fire would be an awful idea though unless we want to cause more damage than there already is.” Without hesitating, the woman passed over her lighter. 

“Dark,” Bas said simply, raising his eyebrows- he didn’t pry, it was hardly the time or place to do so. “That’s true, who knows what would’ve happened if I hadn’t been in here today.” He was weirdly lucky, when it was put that way: the cellar was probably the safest place in the castle to be in case of a natural disaster. 

“Do you think lighting the wine on fire would even work?” he mused, taking the lighter from Claire and turning it over in his hand and examining the bottles on the shelves. “I bet the labels are flammable, though.” 

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Bee straightened her spine a little and did as Bas instructed her, closing her eyes for a moment. She had to admit it helped. A little. “Have you ever had the feeling that you could smell how a room felt? Like if it was cold or hot?” she had a hard time explaining what she was trying to say, but sometimes she swore she could do it. “This place it… It even smells cold,” she couldn’t pinpoint why she felt that way, but it was there, and it was frustrating. “I wish I could do that,” she mused under her breath, but as soon as she realized what had crawled out of it, she moved on to the next topic as if nothing had happened. “No, I’m fine,” Bee assured with a flicker of her hand in the air. “Though I’m not sure how I ended up here,” she looked around, and there was a crease deep between her eyebrows.