[Closed, Memory] If Not the Arrival

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Aurelie's toe froze in the middle of crushing another leaf beneath it into smaller and smaller pieces. Had she quite heard that correctly? What she had said had been intended to direct the conversation elsewhere, to break her anger and let them talk about something else. She would have thought of something--probably. Aurelie's head snapped up sharply to look at Uzoji as he stood there, smiling at her.

Sure she couldn't--he wasn't wrong, and that was part of what stung so badly. Of course she couldn't. If it wasn't in these red walls or the memories of a child, she could picture very little indeed. Nobody knew better than Aurelie Steerpike how very small her world was and how much was missing from it. She could no more picture what he described than she could picture herself becoming Queen of Anaxas or battling a hatcher. And she never would be able to, would she? That was the point, wasn't it?

"If there is no need," she said tightly, "then I am not sorry. I-I'm glad I said it, if no apology is needed." Aurelie drew herself up to her full height, as meager as that was. Something brought her chin up in a mirror of her sister, her mother, her aunts and grandmother. Generations of sharp-edged Steerpike women, who she had not seen in years and would never likely see again, but was like them all the same.

"I don't know, sir, what it is you think we--I--do not have, and I surely don't care. Everything I can think of that I might be missing, really missing, was taken from me. A home, a family, freedom, a life--I had all of those." The wind passed through again but this time she didn't shiver. Aurelie knew she should stop, part of her watching horrified at every word that fell out of her mouth, but she didn't know how. It was an art she never had to practice, so instead she forged ahead. "Y-you say this like it's--like everything is fine, for scraps, where you're from... But I can't help but wonder, if we are less, then what is it that is that is taken from them there? B-because I don't--you can't--" Hot, angry tears pressed at the back of her eyes, but she blinked them away. Crying never made her feel any better, so she wouldn't do it.

"B-because I've never known anyone to describe something as 'less' and treat it the same."

Aurelie's speech came to a stuttering halt, her brain finally catching up with her tongue. She had the presence of mind to look horrified, to be horrified, but she was angry still. How dare he! How dare he be nice to her and then, and then--

"Thank you, again, for the clippings. I am... truly grateful. But I have to--I have to return to my work. I'm sorry to keep you." And then she whirled sharply on her heels and left, before she could do any more damage. She wouldn't wait for a reply--nothing he said could make any difference. Perhaps next time she would think better of it, and if she saw him again, she would apologize. For now, she couldn't bring herself to.

[moralhazard]

Morning, 26 Vortas, 2718
Side Gardens

There was a moment of silence between them. Uzoji knew, from the way Aurelie looked at him, that he had gauged correctly, at least, the impact his words would have. She drew herself up to the fullest extent of her meager height, and he saw the resemblance to Liliana much more strongly than he ever had, in the way her chin jutted out and her shoulders squared.

Aurelie took her apology back, and plunged onwards. Uzoji was not smiling anymore; his face was solemn and serious, and his attention fixed wholly on the young girl in front of him. She kept talking; she kept on, and his face softened further.

She looked, Uzoji thought, more horrified than he did. There had been an expression on her face like she wanted to stop, but didn’t know how. Her voice had been angry, yes, but not shouting, and he doubted there had been in a word in there she didn’t mean.

“Have a good day, Miss Steerpike,” Uzoji said, quietly, to the stiff line of her retreating back. He sighed, exhaling it out, and rubbed the back of his neck with one cold hand, beneath the rim of his hat. He grimaced, faintly, wondering if he could have handled it better – wondering if there had been another way to go about it, if perhaps instead he could have teased it from her without prompting such an explosion. There had been wetness glimmering in her eyes, although she’d blinked it away.

Uzoji glanced down at the box on the bench; Aurelie had never taken her clippings. He tucked it back into its hiding place, carefully, and slid his hands back into his pockets.

He would give her time, Uzoji thought. Better not to leave a note now; they would be back in Brunnhold in the spring, Bethas at the latest. He’d bring her more clippings then, and he’d think, in the meantime, about what to say to her. Maybe he would talk to Aremu; it wasn’t so much that he thought the imbala would have much more insight into the life of a Brunnhold gated passive than Uzoji did, but more that he valued the other man’s opinion. More that, Uzoji thought, smiling faintly, Aremu was remarkably effective at calling him on his bullshit.

Uzoji ducked beneath the bare branches of the tree, and made his way through campus, breathing in deep the crisp fall air, and meandering a bit, guessing that Niccolette would be sleeping a little while yet. He would find a way to make things right with Aurelie, Uzoji promised himself; it was only a matter of time.