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[Aremu Ediwo]

Mid-Afternoon, 37 Dentis, 2719
Another Hillside, to the South of the Rose

Dunno, Gideon said, looking at him. Dunno, he said again, in time, after a few fragments of sentences which went nowhere. He wasn’t smiling; he wasn’t frowning, but he wasn’t smiling either.

I can, he’d said. Aremu had looked back; he’d known better than to look, but he had, again, anyway.

Aremu was the one to look away, now. “Of course,” he said, quietly. He hadn’t thought. Whatever this meant to him, surely it was nothing to Gideon; surely it was nothing at all.

He was tired, Aremu thought, aching, more tired than he’d realized. That was all; surely he knew better, by now, than to speak of such things to anyone. For a moment he thought – he wished. But there were letters that could not be sent, and orange-scented bathwater felt more like a strange dream than a memory, as unreal as the brush of petals beneath the moonlight, as foreign as sitting on the pier and watching the sky for lightning.

He did not bring it up again; he had known not to bring it up at all, if he was honest with himself. That he had done so anyway only made him a fool, and he was sorry for it. Lies, Aremu knew, built a wall; lies to oneself were no better than the rest, even if a man who knew honor did not have to worry about them. Or perhaps he did; Aremu was grateful not to know, though not as grateful as he was bitter.

Dunno what it means, just know that it is.

True enough, Aremu thought, trying not to smile or frown, trying to do nothing but continue walking steadily towards the Rose. He wondered what Harper would make of such a description. It was, he thought, as apt as any of the man’s science.

Didn’t know before, Gideon had said, knew then. It had been fear, Aremu thought, achingly tired, thinking of the other man’s hand groping in the dark, and wanting not to wonder what sort of thoughts he’d had. He wanted to say it, even now, in the wide open space of the rolling hills with the breeze rustling through his hair and coat. I’m not dangerous, he wanted to say, in that way. That part of me won’t hurt you, even if.

He didn’t say it. Whatever fear Gideon had felt – whatever fear he had felt, and Aremu could acknowledge that he, too, had been afraid – he thought he would rather leave it behind in the tunnel. He should not, Aremu thought, had asked; he wasn’t sure he was glad of the answer. Just a word, after all; just a way of describing himself.

Aremu breathed in, deeply, tasting the salt air, and back out. They were climbing, once more; his steps slowed, and Gideon’s did too. They crested the hill, and down below it Aremu could see the edges of homes and shops, the edge of the Rose itself; there were no streets, yet, but they were not far away. He sagged with tiredness, pressing his face to his hand for a long moment, then grunted himself up and kept on.

[Peregrine]

37th of Dentis, 2719 - Late Afternoon/Early Evening
A Hillside South of the Rose

Peregrine didn't think they liked that, the "of course". It sounded to their ears too much like doubt, or something else. Didn't mean nothing, that "of course". Couldn't mean nothing--what was there for it to mean? They'd said too much, yeah yeah yeah, they knew they had. Too much and too strange, but it weren't like they'd said enough. Weren't like they could be figured out.

You're barking up the wrong tree, they wanted to say. Can't get no answers from Peregrine--don't you know the dead don't answer no questions? Except Peregrine weren't dead, they were alive and would always be alive. Didn't matter how they knew a scrap for a scrap, yeah? Didn't matter none at all. Peregrine didn't know as to what Aremu meant, really, by empty. Weren't nobody empty they'd found--after all, Peregrine always had to push someone else out, didn't they? Bodies always full of someone else 'til they were Peregrine.

Aremu went all funny and quiet after all of it. Peregrine weren't sorry for it, not really--they didn't know what they would have said, if he'd wanted to talk more about it. Sometimes they knew that there was something in the holes that they weren't just missing, but that they'd put there. Sometimes they could feel it sharp like a knife, slick like a flood of dark water that threatened to choke them all up. Heavy and suffocating, a tomb of earth.

Peregrine ran their tongue over their teeth, tired all through. This hurt, and they didn't like it. Wanted that clam feeling back--it had seemed easier, before. The both of them crested the rise of the next hill, and there it was: ol' Ring-Around-the-Rosie. Not there yet, but near enough to taste it. They couldn't quite think as to what part of the city they was looking at, or how far from the edges home was. Long ways still, long and long and long.

"Ent mean nothin' by it," Peregrine tried again. They still thought--there was something they'd missed, a feeling or an expectation, and they didn't much like it. They weren't so bad, yeah? Didn't as want folks to feel bad on account of them. Not always. Not usually. That hadn't worked before--Peregrine paused, mind churning slow. Weren't so good with words, they'd said that and they'd meant it.

"Sorry." All they could think to add, but it seemed maybe important. They frowned and they shrugged and they kept on. He could take it, or he could not. They'd keep on, all the same.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Late Afternoon, 37 Dentis, 2719
Another Hillside, to the South of the Rose

They both stood at the top of the hill a long moment. Aremu gazed down it, and not at the man by his side; it did not seem to him that there was much to say.

When Gideon spoke, it took him by surprise; Aremu shifted, glancing at him. Didn’t mean nothing by what, he wanted to ask. By scrap? By our conversation? By not wanting to discuss – what I am? Well enough, really; I don’t want to discuss what you are, either. He tried to imagine Gideon opening up to him about being off-balance; the thought was too absurd to consider.

At the same time, Gideon was looking at him, and there was a certain intensity to it which Aremu did not, quite, know how to place. He shifted; he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand beneath his coat.

Gideon had already started the descent down the hill. Feeling foolish, Aremu followed after him; he went a little faster, catching the other man against his better instincts. “It's nothing to worry about,” he said, after a moment, glancing over at Gideon, and then down at the hillside once more.

The line blurred, here; there were paths in the hillside, where there hadn’t been before. They started as trampled bits of grass, and became thin winding trails, and then, before long, they were on something which resembled a street, with bits which led off, here and there, to houses nestled at the edges of the hillside. There was a last slope down, and then the streets were brushed with sand over the dirt, and it was houses and buildings all around them, and not grass.

Aremu breathed in, deeply; he shivered.

“Listen,” he said, after a moment, glancing at Gideon. “Would you like uh – get something to eat or drink around here? Together,” Aremu clarified, after a moment.

Before we head our separate ways, he might have said; before we, like as not, never see one another again. It wasn’t exactly that the thought bothered him; Gideon was beyond strange. But they’d…

He’d saved the man’s life, Aremu thought, and Gideon – as strange as he wasn’t – didn’t seem like such a bad fellow, not really. He was glad to be back in the Rose, and he thought the idea of a bath and then a good, long sleep one of the most pleasant in recent memory, but he wasn’t as eager as he should have been to see the back of the other man. Something about the tired, dragging hollows of Gideon’s face, too, had made him think – well – that it wasn’t such a bad thing to suggest, in the end.

Sorry, Gideon had said; Aremu wasn’t sure what he’d been apologizing for, in the end. He thought, though, that he wanted to accept; he hoped Gideon would understand.

[Peregrine]

37th of Dentis, 2719 - Late Afternoon/Early Evening
The Edge of the Rose

Peregrine hadn't waited for no response there at the top of the hill. They didn't expect as to get one; what was the point? They'd said their piece, as best they could, and the Rose was waiting. Jewel of Anaxas, the Rose. Sometimes a grubby little jewel, but one all the same. Fuck, Peregrine didn't give a shit if it was a jewel or just a rock--their bed was in it, and they wanted to be in it too.

They had gone a little ways down the hillside in this way before Aremu caught back up to them; Peregrine slowed their pace to match. They looked down in surprise when Aremu spoke, but didn't answer. Just nodded and kept on. The closer they got to the city, the more signs of human habitation there were. Grass giving way to trails and trails to streets and even houses, pretty as a picture. Maybe not the kind of picture as one might have framed in their home, but a picture, yeah?

No idea where Aremu was headed, they thought. Could be near the edge; could be clear across the city. Peregrine was a little sorry to be parted from company, even if they weren't as such good company themself. Rare, the sort of folks what wouldn't hear all that strangeness that came falling out of them sometimes, when they was as tired and run-down as they thought they might have been from the start, and didn't just walk off right quick. Saved Gideon's life, even, this Aremu Ediwo. Peregrine weren't as much use to most, but they liked to try to remember things like that. Didn't always manage, but they tried.

Convinced this was them parting ways, for a moment they didn't as register what Aremu said to them in the edges of the city proper. Peregrine blinked, owlish and slow, and considered if Aremu was trying to play some kind of game. Could be; if it were a game, it weren't one with rules Peregrine understood. Funny kind of game, to crawl through a tomb and save a man's life and find some way to trick him after that. Peregrine didn't even have nothing to be tricked out of. Little money, they thought, in their pocket. Enough for the proposal, but weren't much more. Lot of work, for that kind of change.

Their head tilted to one side and then the other; they hummed, considering. Together. Peregrine weren't as used to doing "together"s with nobody no more.

"Yeah," they said in that low voice of Gideon's. Broke out into a smile even, and kept it. Didn't let it fall right back off their face as it so often did, just because they were tired of making it. "Yeah, would like."

They had thought--Peregrine had been tired. They were tired still, felt it all dragging at them. Tired of being tired, too, though, tired of crawling back to their flat alone. Peregrine could wait a little longer. Weren't like they were as going to sleep, anyways. Sleep and death, they thought; sleep and death both.

"Anywhere y'like," they added. Then after a moment, thoughtful-like: "Long 's they got water."

[Aremu Ediwo]

Late Afternoon, 37 Dentis, 2719
Somewhere in the Southern Edge of the Rose

There was something of a pause in the moment after his question. Aremu found himself embarrassed by it, and he didn’t rescind the offer only because to do so would have been worse. He’d thought – Gideon had wanted to walk back to the Rose, together, hadn’t he?

Aremu had somewhere to go, and he was grateful for it. Niccolette would be meditating, most likely, or reading, but she was pleasant enough company. He doubted she’d have any interest in dinner; there would probably be some soup on the stove and bread waiting, since Penny had been in that day. If that didn’t appeal, he could always stop in Quarter Fords and get something more familiar.

He waited, though, thinking – if Gideon were to refuse, he’d at least like him to do it aloud. No, he wanted to make him say, the reminder that you’re a passive’s too much for me, after all. You saved my life, but you’re not a man, not really – just a shell of one. Just a scrap, and when I stand near you, I can feel the lack.

Yeah, Gideon said then, and to Aremu’s surprise he smiled, slow and broad and longer.

“I don’t know anywhere around here,” Aremu said – he wasn’t entirely sure where here was either – “but I’m sure we can find something.” He was smiling, too.

The last few streets took them down into the Rose proper, although the Rose proper still had dirt-packed streets brushed in sand, around here, and really didn’t look that different from the houses on the hillside; it was a bit noisier, perhaps, a bit busier. It was a surprise to Aremu to find the streets full of people heading home through the sunset; he’d known the day must have passed, but it brought it home, somehow.

There were plenty of places to choose from. Aremu let his nose lead him to one with old trim neatly painted – Starflies, said a roughly written sign overhead. It was quiet inside, a few men drinking at the bar already, with a handful of neatly kept mismatched tables.

There was ale, and water too, upon request, and the young woman brought out two thick slices of what Aremu knew now to call a chicken pot pie. A decade ago and it’d have baffled him, but he’d been long enough in the Rose to guess at it, even if often the term chicken was somewhat wishful thinking. It wasn’t quite hot anymore, but it wasn’t cold either, and if the juices in the center had soaked somewhat into the crust, it wasn’t so bland as Anaxi food tended to be.

Aremu didn’t touch the thick brown ale, but, with his right wrist tucked in his lap, he set about the pie with relish, eating slowly but with utter absorption; all the smells had woken his appetite, and he found himself far, far hungrier than he’d have guessed.

[Peregrine]

37th of Dentis, 2719 - Late Afternoon/Early Evening
Somewhere in the Southern Edge of the Rose

Peregrine found it weren't so hard as to keep the smile when folks didn't look at him funny for it; they left it there, easy as you please. Not quite that clam feeling, but they weren't so jittery as they had been neither. Not clams, but weren't teeth. They'd take it, yeah they would.

"We surely can," they agreed. The "we" of it tripped off Gideon's tongue fair strange.

It was funny to Peregrine how the city could seem so different just on account of where you were standing in it. Part of the fun, they supposed, with cities. Different in each little bit of them. Could be different cities, really, for all the similarity they had, looking around these dirt-and-sand streets and comparing it to the smoother glitter up and around King's Court, the grim menace of Voedale or even where their old room had been somewhere near Berret Park. Little bits of disparate parts all stitched up together and pretending to be one whole kind of thing; Peregrine felt some sympathy for that.

Peregrine had been in the Rose for some fair time now, they thought. Hard to be sure, but they thought it had been at least some months. Yeah? Something like that. Time slipped out of their fingers like trying to grab fistfuls of beach. Didn't matter, anyways, the point was they weren't as sure they'd been over to this part before. Didn't sound like Aremu had neither, and that was nice in a way. Nice to just wander about, among all those nice and proper people heading to their homes while the sun sank lower in the sky. No destination or nothing, and none of that driving restlessness that made them growl and snap their teeth and slink back to their room alone sometimes when they saw all these proper folk living proper lives. With births and deaths and sleeps in them.

Aremu chose a place, one among many, and Peregrine was happy enough with it. Quiet and neat, Peregrine thought. Weren't full up, and weren't empty neither. They liked that, they decided. Today, they liked that. Tomorrow, who knew? But tomorrow was a funny kind of idea anyways. Peregrine fell on the water like they ent never had none before, even though there was a funny kind of flavor to it and they didn't think as there should be.

They had thought maybe they should say something, not knowing quite what. But when they turned their dark eyes to Aremu's face, he seemed to be setting to that food with a slow, serious concentration they was loathe as to break. It didn't bother them none, to just eat in quiet and think as they weren't being quiet alone. Weren't like talking ever did them much good, they thought.

No talking then. They turned back to the food in front of them, eating slow and careful. Filling up.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Late Afternoon, 37 Dentis, 2719
Starflies

Aremu did not eat quickly, but he didn’t eat slowly either; it was more that once he had begun, all the aching hunger in his stomach woke at once, and he could think of very little but the food before him. He did not like hunger; he could bear it, and he knew well that there were worse things. In the cave, climbing, on the long walk, he had not thought of it; there had been more pressing concerns. Now that he could yield he found it almost overwhelming, and to stop and make polite conversation would have been a challenge.

He didn’t try the ale; the water they’d served tasted strange enough, but Aremu drank it greedily, and was grateful for the lukewarm juices of the pie. He ate most of the way through the pot pie, and thought ruefully that he could have eaten the entire thing and another besides, if it were set in front of him.

There were rolls, at least, thick and crusty, which the waitress brought out in a covered basket; they were stale, but warmed as if they’d been set back in the oven a few moments. Aremu took one from the fabric, and rested it against the table with the heel of his hand, ripping off a piece and letting steam drift into the air. He mopped up some of the juices of the pie with it, eating.

Part of him was grateful that it was soggy; there was plenty of fare in a place of this sort hard to eat one-handed. It wasn’t that he couldn’t switch back and forth between a knife and fork, but it was tedious and, worse, drew attention that he didn’t want in the least.

Aremu glanced across the table. For all that Gideon had more than a head on him, the other man was eating more slowly, although with the same sort of steadiness. Aremu sat back; he ripped another piece of the roll, somewhat rueful, and mopped up a bit more of the sauce.

There were silences which felt like a constraint, a chastisement. In Starflies, or whatever it was called, with the quiet, distant hum of low conversation and the clicking of glasses, with Gideon sitting opposite him, Aremu was startled to realize that he wasn’t uncomfortable – at least, not more than he was in any Anaxi establishment. This one, at least, wasn’t crowded; here, at least, he could keep his back to the wall. Even eating, he hadn’t entirely lost his awareness of the room around them.

Aremu left coins on the table for the meal and the ale, although he hadn’t touched it. He turned and looked at Gideon outside Starflies, shifting for a moment in the street. It was evening now, if only just, and although there was some light left still, the few phosphor lanterns nearby were beginning to light.

Aremu smiled, meeting Gideon’s eyes. “May the waters of your life flow smooth,” he said, after a moment, quiet and even. “It was good to meet you, Gideon.”

[Peregrine]

37th of Dentis, 2719 - Evening
Some Restaurant, Southern Edge of the Rose

Ate and ate and ate. Peregrine hadn't thought as they were very hungry, not really. Likely as they weren't, but Gideon was. Face needed things, a body needed things and Peregrine so often forgot to provide. They tried, yeah? They tried so hard. Tried to remember to eat well, sleep well, didn't poison Gideon too much. Just with drink, and only some of the time. Weren't rotting away from it, they didn't think.

Might be if they kept drinking this dubious ale that had been served with the food, though. Which they did, chasing down stale rolls with whatever that stuff was that they was calling ale. Seemed a good a name for it as anything, though Peregrine was fair sure it was more seawater than whatever went into making a beer.

Hey now, weren't that something they could as try on for size? Brewing, that is. Maybe not as Gideon, or maybe--yeah. They'd not done that, yet. Seemed like a good, solid occupation. Keep a body busy, maybe a spirit too. Peregrine allowed their mind to wander, thinking on such a thing, eating their soggy pie. Dark eyes kept looking around the place, but took in no sights except those in their imagination.

Eventually they finished to find Aremu had before them, and paid too. Peregrine fished around in their pocket and pulled out coin--they had just enough, they was pleased to note, to leave a tip too--and set it down on the table. Little squares of metal clinked against each other with a gentle, satisfying sort of noise. Peregrine rose to their feet and went with Aremu outside.

The light was dying proper now, and Peregrine felt the weariness settle over Gideon's bones more than it had before. Like you fill one hunger, and the body up and finds another one. Good thing, Peregrine thought. Meant it was still going. It was the lack of hungers that was real death, maybe. They lingered, knowing they had a ways to walk yet, and all of it just back to the same alone as they always were.

Peregrine turned to Aremu after a moment, knowing they couldn't as keep him if he didn't want to be kept. Thinking on how he'd been a fair good sort, yeah? And like as wouldn't walk off without saying nothing. Ent hardly got the words dredged up in their mind when Aremu smiled and looked right at them, no flinching or nothing. Saying all kinds of shit like that it was good to meet them--Peregrine didn't believe that for a second, but took it as further evidence of decency.

"Ent as done so far," they said slow, smile not quite making its full way to Gideon's face. "And I ent as sure--eh. Same to you, yeah? And if y'ever... shit, ever got too much time on yer hands, yeah? Come down the docks sometime." Peregrine shrugged and held up Gideon's hands in front of them, warding off the knowledge that there weren't no type of man what had that kind of time. They didn't think as they'd ever be seeing Aremu again. So it went. Peregrine stared a moment, then blinked and looked away.

"Good meeting you, Aremu Ediwo. Couldn't as picked a better man to be trapped in a hole with." The smile found them then, and a short, scratching laugh too. After a moment more of lingering, they nodded sharp-like and loped off to sleep. Too tired they thought for dreaming. Hoped so, at least. They fair did hope so.