[Mature] My Color Comes Back

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, 15 Dentis, 2719
Ana's Room, Brunnhold Campus

Aurelie had offered an apology for something else as well – something which had passed between them earlier. There had been a softening of Ana’s voice in response, Niccolette noted, and she called the small passive Birdie once more; some sharper emotion, not much of a match for her tone, flickered through Ana’s field.

It was not precisely a surprise when Ana identified the passive as her sister. Niccolette inclined her head, gently, in something like a nod; there was a faint, high-pitched squeak from the door, which she did not quite know what to make of.

Aurelie apologized again from the doorway. Twice.

There were quite a few pieces falling into place, Niccolette thought, somewhat wryly. The need for the house in Muffey – a handful of comments made – not that she could quite judge the girl’s age, of course. Ana was a few years older than herself, so she assumed Aurelie could not to be too young. What was it Ana had said about attending Anastou…? That something had not mattered, anymore.

Ana shrugged something Niccolette assumed to be an apology. Niccolette shrugged back; she drew her legs up, tucking them beneath the blanket, and rested her head back against the wall with a soft sigh. Not interrupting anything, Ana said, and Niccolette barely suppressed the faintest of snorts. Not interrupting anything important, she might have said, but – clearly – an interruption had taken place.

It was – naturally, Niccolette thought, slowly, with an odd sort of feeling, many of these passives were someone’s sibling. She had never quite thought of it before. She had never had a sister or a brother, but – unbidden, Aremu’s face swam before her mind, and the thought was so vehemently distasteful it sent a fierce, violent shudder through her. She cleared her throat, quietly; she set it aside.

Niccolette cared very little for rules, spoken or unspoken; she had never before considered the one that once a child became a passive, they were cut from the family like an infected limb. She found, in retrospect, she did not much care for it; certainly not enough to think anything of Ana breaking it.

Niccolette glanced over the edge of the bed, at the cloak and dress and underthings strewn across the floor. She abruptly regretted her choice of wardrobe; she had so few front-lacing corsets in Vienda, and as she herself was staying in the Stacks, she had thought nothing of bringing one which laced in the back. Now, naturally, she thought quite a lot of it.

“I am happy,” Niccolette said, casually, her voice as thickly-accented as ever, “to leave the two of you to talk – however, I am… somewhat constrained, as concerns appearance.”

The Bastian, having made her presence known, shifted herself off the edge of the bed, one arm holding the blanket in place. She crossed to the small table, and sat there, instead, a little more distant from the other two women; she tucked the blanket more solidly into place, folding it over herself with an ease of practiced learned in Mugroba. Niccolette crossed her legs at the knee, and took the bottle of wine into her hands, studying the label; if she managed to catch Ana’s eye, she’d lift an eyebrow, and reach somewhat questioningly for the corkscrew.

Niccolette rather thought she could use another glass of wine; she suspected Ana felt not dissimilarly. Certainly Aurelie looked as if she could.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Dentis 15, 2719 - Late Evening | Ana's Room, Brunnhold Campus

Niccolette--Aurelie hadn't been able to contain a squeaked yelp of surprise at the name of her sister's... her... companion? Oh tocks, how did one even...? She didn't think, at least she wasn't--she was given to understand that--it was unlikely to be serious. Surely Ana would have mentioned...? Except perhaps not. That was not a subject she knew how to discuss with her sister, or with anyone.

Ana's eyes had gone to Aurelie's wrist when she went to fidget with the ties of her bracelet. They were sharp and gold--the eyes of a hawk. Aurelie left off her fidgeting immediately.

"Those are nice colors on you, dearest. Did you make that?" Aurelie had frowned. Something in her sister's tone had irked her. It was the sort of voice one used when indulging a child.

"No, I... er. It was a. A gift. Uhm." Aurelie fidgeted again. She wanted to tell Ana--maybe not everything, but some things. That's what sisters were supposed to be for, weren't they? They had been estranged and apart for so long, but she had always been Aurelie's childhood confidante. Aurelie had shared with Ana that she hadn't even shared with Nurse. Nevermind that they were the dubiously important secrets of a child. Keeping things from Ana sat twisted and sour in Aurelie's stomach. Something in her held her tongue. It was just because it wasn't her secret alone, she told herself. That was all.

"A gift?" Those perfect eyebrows had arched. Aurelie felt pinned by her sister's eyes; she had the most absurd desire to run away. Oh, why had she said anything? If Ana pressed her on it--if she couldn't keep her mouth shut, the way she could never keep her mouth shut-- "That's sweet, darling. Who gave it to you?"

Aurelie's mouth opened. She closed it again. Her fingers itched to move to her wrist; she kept them firmly by her sides. The longer she stood there, the sharper her sister's gaze became. Aurelie knew she was being strange--wasn't she always being strange? The blush crept up the back of her neck. Lie, Aurelie. Just lie. You can do it this one time, can't you? Even if it's to Ana.

"Oh. Ah. Er. It's from--well it was just--my, er. My... my f-friend. He--er. Uhm. B-because I gave... my... my friend something. Something else. A handkerchief! I ruined one, uhm, so I had to replace it. Well, not had to, but it seemed the thing to do and--er. Yes. A friend made it for me." Yes, that had gone exceedingly well. She had absolutely done that completely correctly.

There were many women named Niccolette, more than likely. Aurelie wasn't truly certain how common a name it was, but it seemed unlikely for there to be only one in all the world. Except--more than one that knew her sister? For a moment she considered if this was the very same person, the very same Niccolette--had they always...? Aurelie frowned again, safe from notice in her position with her hands over her face and her back turned on them both. No, she didn't like thinking about that at all. With no real proof beyond idle wonderings, it seemed just as reasonable to dismiss the idea.

More overwhelming than that thought was the feeling of both of those fields in the same small room. Her sister's was strange to her still; it had not been so--Aurelie didn't know, really, how to read it. She never did. But it had been different when she was younger. And the other? She wasn't sure what she would have expected from the woman she suspected this was that her sister was with. After all, she'd only ever had the most abstract of descriptions. She just hadn't expected someone so... so intimidating. A beautiful lady with a vivid scar and a field that felt, as much as she could tell, Living, but nothing like a healer. It was making her nervous just standing next to them both. Nervous and small.

Aurelie almost jumped again when her sister came to put a hand on her shoulder; she hadn't quite expected that Ana would do so. Cautiously she pulled her hands away from her face, hot enough to fry an egg on her cheek. She had heard the woman--Niccolette--make some sound when Ana assured her that her presence was no interruption. Aurelie was honestly rather inclined to agree. Perhaps Ana was happy to speak with her, happier than she was to continue... Well. It seemed that her sister had found something to wear that covered... something of herself. Still dreadfully scandalous, but they were blood after all. Aurelie turned to her sister, who was still positioned between herself and Niccolette. When she spoke, her accent was terribly Bastian. That, she supposed, would have been a rather powerful coincidence as well.

Ana turned away from Aurelie then, and the passive caught sight of her once more. The dark-haired woman had turned to look at her sister again, holding a bottle of wine. From somewhere above her head Aurelie heard her sister sigh and swear quietly under her breath. That, of all things, made her raise her eyebrows. She had never heard Ana do so before.

"There are two glasses--yes, just there. I certainly wouldn't--" Ana broke off whatever it was she was about to say and looked down at Aurelie again. Aurelie tried to make herself smaller, more out of habit than anything else.

"P-please don't, er. Feel free to, uhm. You don't need my permission to--oh chimes. Er. I really c-can leave, uhm." That might have been a mercy to her, really. The longer she stood in the presence of Ana and Niccolette, proper ladies as they both were, the more Aurelie was aware that she had come straight from the kitchen after work. She was tired and she had bits of flour on her and hadn't even splashed her face with water for several hours. In short, she was a shabby little mess. Like always. Aurelie put the corner of a nail in her mouth.

"No. No, Birdie, you stay--in fact, please, sit down." Ana smoothed the hand that had been placed on her shoulder down Aurelie's arm and squeezed, lightly. "I will--I'll get a little more decent, hmm? Just wait here. Please. I'll only be a moment." She smiled, and Aurelie smiled back. Hers felt like more of a grimace.

Ana left the room to disappear into the adjoining bathroom after scooping up a nightgown from the wardrobe. Aurelie did as she was told, even though the only seat was nearer to Niccolette and she couldn't bring herself to raise her eyes much above the level of her ankles. Without her sister watching, she felt more free to worry at the bracelet. Much better than biting her nails. Probably.

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, 15 Dentis, 2719
Ana's Room, Brunnhold Campus

Niccolette glanced at the glasses when Ana pointed them out, and nodded. She held the base of the bottle with one hand, and used the other to settle the corkscrew into place, turning it steadily until she could feel the tension thrumming through the cork.

Nearly, Niccolette thought with the faintest tinge of amusement, as tense as the little room.

Ana herded her sister to a seat, and vanished into the adjoining bathroom. The younger girl looked every bit as red as Niccolette had imagined; bits of hair were stuck rather ingloriously to her forehead, and she had a few smears of flour, here and there, on her wrinkled uniform.

Niccolette pressed the handles down, and the cork came free. She took a deep breath, and poured one glass; with a quick sideways glance at Aurelie, she filled it about halfway, just a smidge more than a true glass of wine.

Niccolette adjusted the blanket wrapped around herself; she took the glass in one hand. She swirled it, lightly, letting the legs run down the side. Then, with a shrug, she leaned forward, and extended it out to Aurelie with raised eyebrows, leaning it far enough forward that even with her gaze firmly fixed in her lap and the bracelet she was fiddling with, the girl couldn’t miss it. She noticed the awkwardly wrapped bandage around one finger, though no stain of red showed through the layers.

“Go on,” Niccolette said into the hesitant silence, her voice amused and almost warm. “You look as if you rather need it.” It was said much more kindly than it might have been, although Niccolette could not quite keep from smiling. She held it there until Aurelie took the glass of red wine.

The Bastian sat back; she crossed her legs once more, adjusting the fold of the blanket. She glanced at the bottle, and poured a second glass of wine. Niccolette glanced around; there did not, she noted ruefully, seem to be anything else to drink from.

There was a good deal of rustling from the bathroom. Niccolette set the second glass down, tapping short fingernails lightly against the table, one then the other.

It was absurd to imagine telling Uzoji about this, but she could not quite help it. In her imagination, naturally, he was furious; she would have liked that. She wondered if he would have thought differently of this than a man; she had never asked. For a long time she had not wished to; afterwards, it would have been needlessly cruel, and Niccolette did not think herself so. Not needlessly.

She tried to think of what she would say. Yes, her sister! Blushing bright red with her whole face; she did not know if he would have laughed. It was hard to imagine. How deep would the anger have been? He must have returned to the cycle by now, perhaps even left the antelife and been reborn. No - not yet, no. Surely not yet.

Niccolette’s fingers stopped tapping; something ached, hot, behind her eyes. She took a deep, steadying breath. If he knew - would he feel he still had a claim on her? The ersehole probably would, Niccolette thought, and found another smile, an easy, righteous sort of anger burning in her chest. She blinked away the slightest of tears, gently dabbing one from the corner of her eye with a fingertip and flickering it away.

The bathroom door opened. Niccolette glanced up, and raised her eyebrows. “Bottle or glass?” She asked, nonchalant, gesturing between the two.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Dentis 15, 2719 - Late Evening | Ana's Room, Brunnhold Campus

She couldn't look up. She wanted to, but she simply couldn't bring herself to do it. Not when she heard the sound of the cork popping free, not when she heard Niccolette pour the wine. Aurelie sat as still as she could manage and prayed to any god that would listen that she not make a fool of herself. Not any more than she already had.

Ana was angry with her. That was the only conclusion Aurelie could reach about her sudden departure from the room. She knew Ana had said that she had to change, it was just that she didn't quite believe it. Why step out of the room now, if not because she was upset? Hadn't Aurelie already seen... well, most of what there was to see? That thought brought a renewed wave of blush to her face that she tried to tamp down. That was not a line of thought she needed to continue to entertain. The sight of Niccolette's scar stuck out so strangely bright in her mind.

Aurelie looked up in surprise when Niccolette extended one of the glasses to her. Too sharply--she almost tweaked one of the tense muscles of her neck. Green eyes blinked, a little owlish, and flicked from Niccolette's face to the glass and back. Why would she...?

But the glass wasn't withdrawn, and Aurelie didn't know what to do other than take it. The crush of Niccolette's presence simply would not allow for any other option. She murmured a wavering thanks. Her glance into the depths of the glass was dubious at best. Aurelie couldn't remember the last time she had been given wine. Certainly not in the last decade--who would give wine to a passive? She had been given it before as a child, she thought. A sip with dinner. No more than that. It felt strange to hold the glass in her hands and know it had been poured for her.

There wasn't, she noticed, another glass. Aurelie clutched at the one in her hand a little harder. There was the sound of rustling from the bathroom; Ana, getting dressed. Or whatever it was she was doing. Deciding, perhaps, if Aurelie was worth the effort. What a terribly--what a cheering thought. She hadn't intended to drink what had been handed to her at first. She did so now, a deeper draft than perhaps was wise. The taste of it surprised her--dark and bitter, it flooded the back of her tongue. Aurelie spluttered a little. Because of course she did! Why wouldn't she make an absolute fool of herself doing something as simple, as straightforward, as drinking wine?

In her fit, Aurelie took another sidelong glance at Niccolette. Her eyes were drawn as if magnetized; she couldn't help it. She wondered what her relationship really was to her sister. Was it--was it anything? Or was it nothing at all? Aurelie wanted to ask, but she couldn't ask without revealing how she thought to do so. Even she knew this would be a bridge too far. And besides... she was not eager to prod at whatever pain might be waiting there. Aurelie looked away again and took another sip, smaller this time. She felt fine, she thought. Perhaps she could hold her liquor after all.

After a moment Ana reappeared. She had dressed herself in her nightgown and the robe besides, her hair all undone and her makeup removed. She looked--Aurelie blinked. Her sister was beautiful, no matter the circumstance. Not like her, not at all.

"Bottle or glass?"

That was Niccolette--with a guilty start, Aurelie realized that there had only ever been the two glasses. Ana looked to her, to the glass clutched in her hand, and then sharply to Niccolette. The look on her face was--it was so disapproving. As if Niccolette had done something truly wrong. Perhaps she had, Aurelie wasn't sure. But it seemed--it was the look Ana kept giving her, the one that told her that she thought her a child. Would always think her a child. It made something hot boil up in her heart.

"I'm sorry, I--I didn't realize there were only the two glasses." Aurelie made no move to relinquish the one she held. She lifted her face to catch her sister's eye; green against gold. Something defiant flashed there before she looked down again.

"...Bottle, I suppose." Ana's voice was slow and measured. Angry? With her, or with Niccolette? Aurelie couldn't tell. The likelier of the two would be her, she thought. She had made the error in accepting what should not have been given to her. Ana took the bottle from Niccolette's grasp and filled the other glass. This she handed back to the Bastian, her face a twin to Aurelie's own--stubborn, to the last.

"Be careful not to drink too much Birdie," Ana murmured offhandedly. Again Aurelie was irritated. She didn't drink--of course she didn't. But Ana didn't know. Couldn't know! How could she know anything that Aurelie did or didn't do? She hadn't known for ten years. Or more. If she'd ever known at all.

"I'm not a child," she snapped, before remembering that there was someone else in the room to witness her absolutely appalling behavior. She cast an apologetic glance somewhere in the realm of Niccolette's elbows. As such she missed the furious look Ana cast in Niccolette's direction, demanding of an explanation, thrown over the top of her ruffled head.

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, 15 Dentis, 2719
Ana's Room, Brunnhold Campus

Ana’s displeasure was as clear across her face as if she had written it on her forehead in kohl. Niccolette couldn’t quite bring herself to care. That she’d given Aurelie wine, Niccolette supposed. She relinquished the bottle when Ana reached for it, but did not yield in the least; she did not so much as acknowledge the expressions on the other woman’s face.

Ana poured a glass and handed it to her, fuller than the one Niccolette had offered Aurelie. Niccolette took it, and took a sip of the wine. It was not nearly as good as the dry, fruity Palazzi do Terre, but it was good all the same; it was savory and dry, with a distinct tannic mouth feel, earthy but with a hint of cherry flavors. A bit closed off; Niccolette rather suspected decanting would have improved the flavor. She settled the glass back down on the table.

Ana shot her a distinctly angry look, this time.

Niccolette raised both eyebrows, and shrugged bare shoulders beneath the blanket. The faint smile on her face did not so much as budge; she took another sip of the wine, and then set the glass back down on the table, as calm as if Ana were still smiling at her. “Very nice,” she said, lightly, running her finger down the stem of the glass. “A good choice.”

The Bastian rose, then; she held the blanket against herself with one arm, and took a few steps across the room. There – from this angle, she could see her slip quite well. It was white, of course – not ideal – but probably better than the blanket. Niccolette draped it over her arm, and made her way into the bathroom.

She lowered the blanket, leaving it pooled on the floor; she pulled the slip on over her head, and eased her hair out of it. She splashed her face clean, leaning against the sink basin for a moment and closing her eyes. She held for a breath – a second – a third – and opened her eyes, looking at herself in the mirror. Niccolette grimaced, faintly, and set about washing the kohl from her eyes and the color from her lips, not in the least shy about using whatever was set out for Ana.

It did not take so long; she had many years of practice. She patted her face dry, combed her fingers through her hair once more to push it back off her face, and exhaled a soft sigh to herself. Niccolette came back out then, bare-footed; the slip was knee-length, and revealed bare calves, but was otherwise loose enough not to be too scandalous on the Bastian’s frame. Her shoulders were more covered than they had been by the blanket.

Niccolette sat down on her chair once more, and draped the blanket over her lap; her hands were still damp, and the cold air of the bedroom was distinctly uncomfortable, much more than it had been still not very long ago. She flexed her fingers, rubbing her hands one over the other, and reached for the glass of wine once more, looking between the sisters. She raised her eyebrows lightly at Ana once more, and took another sip of wine. Yes, Niccolette thought, pleased; even a few minutes of airing out had made some difference.

[caporushes]

15th of Dentis, 2719 - Late Evening
Ana's Room, Brunnhold Campus

Ana had poured the wine for Niccolette and kept the bottle for herself. She wasn't quite sure what sort of something stayed her hand from plucking the glass that Aurelie held. Perhaps it was that flash of stubborn defiance--oh she was a Steerpike, that was for certain, her Birdie. Ana didn't know whether to be amused or cross. Wine seemed hardly the thing to argue about, given that the younger Steerpike had come to apologize.

Niccolette, though, she could be cross with easily. Imagine, giving wine to a--something in her went very still at the word her mind supplied. No, that wasn't the point. The point wasn't Aurelie's affliction it was... How could she possibly know how to pace herself? There were worse environments, Ana supposed, than here in the safety of this room for Aurelie to discover what her limits might be. At least with Ana present, she could keep her sister safe. From what, Ana couldn't have said. It was just the same flash of irritation she thought she might have felt if a baby's nursemaid had given her narcotics for restlessness in sleeping. Lackadaisical standards of care.

Niccolette was not Aurelie's sister, however, and couldn't be expected to treat her with the same consideration. After all, wasn't that part of why it was so important to remove her from the University and bring Aurelie home? Strangers certainly couldn't be expected to be careful enough.

"Not as fine as what we had before," she acknowledged. To Aurelie she said nothing; that sort of outburst was best just ignored. Niccolette rose and gathered her slip to disappear into the bathroom, just as Ana had done not moments before. That left just herself and Aurelie in the room. Her sister's posture had remained tense and angry; she had, Ana noted with some dismay, finished half of that rather generous glass already.

Ana crossed to the bed and sat herself delicately, or as much as she was able with the bottle in her hand. She looked to her sister and the back to the bottle. She had chosen it, of the two options. It had seemed more important to be polite to Niccolette at the time. Now she felt unusually constrained, to be so crass as to drink straight from the bottle in full view of Aurelie. She studied her sister a moment. Such a small thing. Smaller than her, smaller than their mother. She must have gotten that from Father's side of the family. Their father had not been a particularly large man.

"I am... I'm sorry, Birdie. I don't want to fight anymore." Aurelie looked up again at that soft apology. Her mouth, so much like Ana's own, was still pressed as thin as she could manage. Ana sighed. She patted the space on the bedspread next to her. "Come sit, Aura. We--let me refill that glass and we can share, hmm?" Her smile was hopeful. Aurelie looked surprised and more than a little doubtful--surprised at what? Doubtful of what? Something in the expression hurt.

Still, Aurelie rose and crossed to sit next to her. She kept a careful bit of distance between the two of them. That, too, hurt. Ana wanted to pull her closer, as she would have done when Aurelie was young. That she couldn't ached. Small though Aurelie was, she was still an adult. Naive and inexperienced, in need of Ana's guidance and care, but still an adult of sorts. Ana filled the glass again, Aurelie holding it dutifully steady for her. She held her other hand out when she had finished, her smile patient and hopeful. For a moment, Aurelie hesitated--but in the end she passed the glass to Ana's waiting hand, and she took a generous sip of it herself. It was not the ideal circumstance in which to have this particular wine, but it would do.

"Now, Aura," she passed the glass back to her sister, a show of good faith, "what did you want to talk about?"

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Dentis 15, 2719 - Late Evening | Ana's Room, Brunnhold Campus

Ana had said nothing in response to Aurelie's outburst. Part of her was relieved; more of her was annoyed. Fight me! she wanted to cry. Argue with me! Tell me what it is you really think of me, because I can't ask and not knowing is eating away at me. It was that infuriating calm, she thought. She was so used to it, from matrons and patrons, from faculty--from students, even, when they had a mind to speak to someone like her. That tone of voice that said they knew better and always would, because her emptiness was filled with eternal naivete. From strangers, she could dismiss it, accept it. From her own sister? Aurelie couldn't seem to keep her temper in check this time.

"He?" Ana's ears had caught it, of course they had. Stupid, stupid Aurelie. Ana was standing; her field went bright and smooth. Aurelie's eyes had widened. She looked down, cursing herself for her foolish mistake.

But perhaps it was fine, after all. Perhaps this was--uncomfortable, but couldn't she maybe use it as a chance to open up, just a little? Surely, if she didn't... say too much, she could talk to Ana. She wasn't sure why she wanted the older Steerpike to know about Fionn. She didn't want anyone else to, for all sorts of reasons. Aurelie wasn't even sure Ana would... would keep it to herself. It just seemed important, somehow, that Ana know more about her life. Her dull little life--but isn't that what you did, with people who love you? Share your life?

"O-oh. Well, er, yes. I know, er, I know it isn't strictly--it isn't allowed, but--"

"Oh Aura, I don't care about it being allowed." Ana had cut her off with a distinctly inelegant snort (although even that was perfect, from Ana) and a wave of her soft white hand. For a moment, Aurelie's whole face brightened, only to fall again as her sister continued to speak. "But you really shouldn't be--be trading favors with young men, Birdie! You're a good girl," and Ana smiled, touched Aurelie's cheek affectionately, "so I know you probably meant no harm. That sort of thing just--it can lead to expectations. Of more than simple friendship. I would hate for someone to take advantage of you."

Aurelie felt as she'd been dunked into cold water. The tips of her sister's soft fingers were still on her cheek; she gently moved her hand away. What, she wondered, would her sister say if she knew she wasn't--she hadn't been good at all. That she had wanted to be... to be friends, truly, when she had made that first clumsy gift. But that she'd wanted more than that, and now the two things were so tangled up she couldn't have even begun to separate the two? Which was normal, she reminded herself fiercely.

"N-nobody is--I'm not being taken a-advantage of." She could reassure her sister, couldn't she? And she would trust Aurelie's judgement, at least in this?

"Oh, Aura. You can't possibly know that," Ana had said sadly, with a fond smile on her face. A blackness twisted in Aurelie's heart. She could feel it, that flare of her temper that she kept so tightly under wraps--most of the time. This time she couldn't stop it. Maybe, if it had been just the bracelet. Maybe, if it had just been about herself. Aurelie's shoulders stiffened.

"No you--you're the one who doesn't know. You don't know me, and you don't know F--you don't know m-my friend. That isn't... you shouldn't... That's just not true!"

Ana's eyes had been so hard. "Aurelie. I don't know what this... friend of yours has told you, darling, but trust me. I know more of the world than you. You just don't understand, you need to listen to--" Aurelie cut her off with a growl she had not known she could make.

"You're the one who needs to listen! Why can't you just listen to me? You don't know-- Am I so-- Do you really think I'm so--" She had said other things, she knew that much. Hurtful things, angry things, things she meant and things she didn't. But eventually she hadn't known what to say, anymore. Her sister looked shocked, and then disappointed. Aurelie hadn't cared. The anger hadn't left her, so she left instead without so much as a backwards glance.

The offer to share had surprised Aurelie more than she would have thought. She had expected--she didn't know what she expected. More resistance, perhaps. To have to fight Ana on it. To convince her... Aurelie didn't know. Her sister's field had turned gentle, comfortable. More what Aurelie had grown used to from her. That took some of the tension out of her neck, though the sour feeling in her stomach remained. Her anger, too, simmered still in her heart.

Still, she felt comfortable. Very comfortable, in fact. Warm, though the room had been cold when she'd entered. She really should start the fire, shouldn't she? Aurelie had a little more of the wine. She didn't know much about wine, and she wasn't sure she liked this one, but she had more all the same. Ana frowned; Aurelie frowned back and stuck out her tongue. Oh that was funny--her, sticking her tongue out at her sister. Her sister! Her perfect, beautiful sister.

"I'm not perfect, Birdie." Aurelie hadn't realized she had been speaking out loud until Ana responded. She sounded a little like she was laughing. That was good. Laughing meant she wasn't angry anymore, didn't it? Oh, she hoped so. Aurelie needed to apologize still. That was so much easier if Ana wasn't angry. If she wasn't angry, but she wasn't angry now. She was lovely. Just lovely. She put her head on Ana's shoulder then with a soft sigh.

Niccolette reappeared then from the bathroom. She had dressed--well. She had stopped wearing a blanket. That was something. Niccolette still made her nervous, and Aurelie wasn't quite sure why. It was her field, perhaps. Or just her face. The slip didn't come past her knees, and she hadn't any socks. That was--that was hardly proper. And cold! She was probably cold. Aurelie picked her head up off of Ana's shoulder and handed her the glass. She wiggled off the bed, which seemed harder than it should have been, to stand.

"I should--I should help you. Dress? I think. Or--" Aurelie squinted and turned to look at the cold fireplace. "Should I start the fire instead?" It seemed terribly important that she do one or the other.

"Aura, darling, I think you might have had a little too much already." Ana was gentle, and Aurelie rather thought she might be right. It had been a mistake, perhaps, to pick a night when she had not yet had dinner to start drinking. Still, she shook her head.

"N-no, I'm fine. I just need to... to be useful." She looked pleadingly first at her sister, and then briefly to Niccolette--though she looked away as soon as she had done so, back down to her hands. Her scarred, calloused hands. Fionn had called them pretty, but she knew better. She could see them. Her sister was the pretty one--she was just. Just herself.

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, 15 Dentis, 2719
Ana's Room, Brunnhold Campus

By the time Niccolette returned, the two sisters were sitting on the bed; Aurelie’s head was sort of cuddled against Ana’s shoulder, and the harsh look on Ana’s face had rather gone. Niccolette had not stared, but had simply taken her seat once more, settled the blanket over her lap, and picked up her glass of wine. She crossed her ankles beneath the blanket, sitting straight-backed, if leaning slightly to the side. She swirled the wine lightly in the glass, as if to aerate it further, watching the dark red liquid.

Aurelie wobbled slightly when she stood, and Niccolette bit down on a smile. She supposed it was no surprise that the girl was already tipsy, although it was hard to imagine she could have had more than a few mouthfuls of wine. The Bastian took another sip of wine, and raised her eyebrows, lightly, at the offer to help her dress, or else to start the fire. She glanced down at the clothing strewn across the floor, and then over at the neat stack of wood by the hearth.

Niccolette shifted, settling her elbow on the arm of the chair. Aurelie was standing just next to the bed, looking from Ana to her; it was barely the briefest flicker of a glance, before her gaze went straight down once more.

Niccolette found herself unaccountably uncertain. Naturally, she knew how to light a fire; she was not the helpless little girl she had been, once. And yet – she understood that it did not quite seem to be the lack of a fire which was troubling Aurelie, and she understood, too, that the rules of society dictated that a woman like Niccolette was not to make a fire – certainly not while someone like Aurelie was in the room. She did not care for such rules, of course, but while she regretted pouring the girl a glass of wine not in the least, she was rather sharply aware of what Ana would likely think, if she went and lit the fire herself, and she had not quite given up on her hopes for the evening, even if perhaps they would be delayed to another time.

However slim the chance was, Niccolette thought with a tiny little grimace.

She rather did wish to dress, but – too – it seemed remarkably odd to let Aurelie dress her in front of Ana, given the other woman’s clear feelings towards her sister.

There was a rather awkward silence. Niccolette was aware of it, of course; she picked her wine up and took another sip, glad Ana had had the foresight to pour rather a decent glass.

“The need for Muffey, I take it,” Niccolette said, casually, changing the subject. She sat back slightly; she crossed her legs at the knee instead, the angle of them visible beneath the blanket, though her calves were covered. She raised her eyebrows lightly at Ana, and turned her head to study Aurelie once more with the faintest little smile.

[caporushes]

15th of Dentis, 2719 - Late Evening
Ana's Room, Brunnhold Campus

Drunk--or at least tipsy--already. See, she wanted to say, this is why I told you to be careful. But she held her tongue, wincing in memory of earlier in the day. Warmed with memory of her sister's head on her shoulder. Just like when she was little, and Ana had been her whole world. Not their mother, not their father, not even her beloved Nurse--it had been just herself and Aurelie. Hadn't it?

Aurelie lifted her head when Niccolette returned. Ana was a little sorry for it, but she supposed it couldn't be helped. For the first time she noticed how disheveled Aurelie was. There were marks of flour here and there on her blue uniform, and her hair stuck to her face awkwardly. She must have come straight from work. All to apologize. What a sweet child she was, had always been. Ana couldn't help but smile indulgently at her sister, even as she wobbled where she stood.

Those eyebrows shot up at her offer to help Niccolette dress. Surely, she thought, she couldn't mean it--but no, she had just offered something useful. Such a contrast to that defiant flash from just moments before. This was more the child Aurelie had always been, that Ana knew her to be. Sweet and kind, eager to help. It had no doubt served her well here in this wretched place--perhaps too well, that she would offer to help now.

"Aura, darling, sit. Please. I'll start the fireplace--I'm not so helpless as that." Ana stood as well and gently steered her back to the bed. Aurelie looked as if she wanted to protest, but in the end Ana got her to sit again. She remained on her feet. Aurelie plucked the glass from Ana's hand. She should have taken it back, but if that's what she wanted--if that's what it took to get her to sit quietly, obediently... Well. It wasn't doing her much harm, she thought. Not with Ana here to keep her safe.

"The need for the house in Muffey," Ana affirmed with a sigh. She didn't know what to make of Niccolette's continued presence. She was, she supposed, grateful she had not listened to her sister's drunken offers to be useful. And she was also grateful that besides giving Aurelie the wine, something of which she firmly did not approve but seemed so terribly Bastian in the end, she had said very little. That was unexpected. Ana let it go by without comment.

"What does that--oh! Oh. The... your house. Oh." Aurelie looked at her as if she had just come to some new understanding. She had another sip of her wine, then. "You didn't have to do that." Aurelie's voice was a stubborn little murmur. Ana patted her head absently, lightly. A bit like petting a beloved cat. The bottle she had set on the floor after pouring their shared glass. Ana leaned over to pick it up, unbound hair falling all around her. She set it gently on the table once more.

"It was easier to rent the house than to go through the school every time." Ana shrugged as if it were of no consequence. Perhaps it wasn't.

This was a strange place to be, she had to admit. The evening had been rather derailed, but still had not gone to her expectations for that either. And Aurelie still hadn't apologized, or told her whatever it is she came to say. Ana crossed the room to the fireplace; warming the room would, at least, be something to do. As she busied herself with that, she glanced first to Niccolette, then to her sister. Aurelie had leaned a bit against the base of the bed. She seemed tired. They worked hard, all of these blue-uniformed children. Aurelie was--was perhaps more delicate than most. Ana didn't often think of the other passives in the University's employ; she tried not to as much as possible.

"Oh, where is that blasted light," Ana muttered to herself as she thought, rummaging through the accumulation of tools by the fireplace. It would, admittedly, have likely been more efficient to let Aurelie do it. But she had said she didn't want to bring her sister home just to put her to work, and she meant it. Aurelie was unfortunate and afflicted, but a Steerpike still--she was not to do the bidding of other people.

[Niccolette Ibutatu]

Evening, 15 Dentis, 2719
Ana's Room, Brunnhold Campus

Ana settled Aurelie back on the bed, and confirmed Niccolette’s guess. The Bastian nodded, lightly; she took another sip of wine, rather larger, and wondered what on Vita she would do when she had finished the glass. It was disappearing rather disappointingly quickly, and she felt altogether too sober; the pleasant buzz through her veins of earlier in the evening was thoroughly gone – had been, Niccolette thought wryly, since the slamming shut of the door an interminable amount of time ago – and what was left in its wake was rather too sober for the current situation.

Niccolette smoothed the blanket over herself, looking down at the ring on her left hand. She shifted her thumb over it, slowly, twitching it back and forth; it caught the light, shimmering lightly, a little more reflective than the pale, red skin of her fingers. She eased her thumb away; she ran it over her fingertips, slowly, and then, quietly, tucked her hand beneath the fold of the blankets, and lifted her gaze once more.

Ana was crouched in front of the fire, looking rather attractively dishelved as she worked at lighting it. Niccolette took another sip of her wine, and set the glass down on the table, although she kept her hand on it.

She turned to the uniformed passive sitting on the bed, slowly. Niccolette studied the girl. Her nails were bitten short, and her hair a flour-spackled mess; she was blushing a bit, still, although Niccolette supposed it was the wine now, rather than the embarrassment.

Niccolette ran her tongue over her teeth; she lifted the wine glass once more, and took a sip of it. Ana was muttering something to herself, rummaging through the small pile of stacked wood and the pokers and other accoutrements next to the fire.

“You work in the kitchens?” Niccolette turned her gaze back to Aurelie, and lifted her eyebrows lightly. She set the wine glass down once more, leaving her left hand buried, and traced her hand lightly over her own cheekbone, following the line where Aurelie had flour still smeared on her face.

Niccolette remembered those days; she was startled to find herself vaguely homesick for the feeling. She never cooked in Vienda or Brunnhold; she did it only rarely in the Rose. There was nothing so awful as cooking for herself; she could not see why anyone would bother. It was the house on Dzum she thought of, with a wistful ache, and rice and lentil flour mixing together to sit and ferment in the heat, smeared on her hands and apron in the process; it was the wind whistling through white curtains, and the smell of the salt water, Ahura’s voice and the thought of Uzoji outside tending the coffee plants.

Niccolette smiled; it was soft, and it was tinged with sadness. There was the faintest glimmer of moisture in her eyes; she blinked, and it was gone, and she was looking evenly at Aurelie once more, the smile smoothed out to something more neutral and polite.