[Closed, Mature] I will not ask you

[Aremu Ediwo]

Noon, Hamis 32, 2720
Ipúd Restaurant, Laus Oma

Aurelie took a piece of the chili pickled mango, and bit into it. She chewed, her small face set and intent; Aremu grinned, watching her, much too occupied to think just then of eating himself. He knew he was smiling; he knew something of how his face must look just then, and he could do nothing for it.

She looked nothing so much as thoughtful, deeply thoughtful. There was none of the scrunching up of her face he had half expected, only that intent look of hers. She took another little bite, somewhat to his surprise.

Interesting, Aurelie pronounced, and she asked if he liked them.

“Hm,” Aremu said, looking down at the little bowl. He reached out and took a piece of it himself, nibbling at it, feeling a little thoughtful himself. “Do you know, I think I do?” He grinned at her. “I remember thinking they were a joke as a boy, but - in the last, I suppose, eight years, I’ve rather come to like them. Ahura isn’t much inclined towards them, though I’m sure she’d make them for us. Perhaps with familiarity,” his eyes crinkled a little, amused, and he tried to let nothing deeper in him show, “you’d come to like them too. I’d be happy to ask, if you wish.”

I don’t know how long it would take, he wanted to say. You might have to stay a long time - if you wanted to.

There was a part of him that wanted her to go. With her there - every day and now every night - there was no break from it, no respite from all that had crept up on him unawares, and seemed to threaten to swallow him whole whenever he tried to face it too directly.

“Let’s see,” Aremu looked down at the cups. “I haven’t had most of these - the menu’s never the same even two days in a row. If the eggplants are like the ones from last time, they should be good.” He smiled at Aurelie once more, and looked back down at the bowls.

The sounds of eating echoed from the room around them, quiet laughter and conversation in Mugrobi and Estuan both.

Aurelie was hesitating, he thought; he looked down at the bowls again. “Let’s see,” he grinned at her. “Do you like squid?” He took his own bowl, turning it out onto the round metal plate, next to the rice. He ate a bite, tasting the lightly cooked squid, more soft than rubbery, and rubbed well with spice. He mixed the rest of the pieces lightly into the rice, mingling them, eating more of it.

“Let’s switch off choosing,” Aremu suggested, grinning at her, when they’d tried the squid. “What do you want to taste next?”

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Midday | Ipúd Restaurant, Laus Oma

There was something fun about knowing Aremu was waiting to see what she made of the pickle. Aurelie couldn't have said what her face looked like as she ate; she was too focused on the act of it to give much concern to how she looked. She could see how Aremu looked, watching her, and she had to try very hard not to think of that. Not too much, anyway. More than was appropriate.

"They do seem like something you'd tell children to eat as a joke," Aurelie agreed, covering her mouth with one hand. She couldn't stop a small giggle escaping; she couldn't think of why she should try to stop it, either. "I would like that very much, I think. Just to find out if... if familiarity breeds affection."

How familiar did one have to be? Did it take rather a long time? Aurelie thought, absurdly, of the story of the toy rabbit, and she knew she couldn't ask. Not even teasingly, not even about the pickles.

"It all looks good..." She almost said it like a complaint, but it assuredly wasn't one. If she had anything to complain about, it was only that she was paralyzed for choice. With what appeared to be at least a dozen items, it really was rather difficult to pick just one. Ultimately it didn't matter, as they'd have all of them—and yet she hesitated, fingers resting lightly on her chin as she thought.

To her relief, Aremu rescued her. Again. She looked at the squid, eyebrows raised. "Do you know," Aurelie said thoughtfully, "I'm actually not sure. I haven't had it more than a handful of times—it's, er a bit expensive for... I suppose I'll find out, won't I?" Aurelie smiled, very near to a grin; her mouth parted just enough for a small flash of her front teeth. She took a bit of the squid, popping it in her mouth cheerfully and without a second thought.

It was softer than she imagined—it had a bit more chew to it, when Aurelie had it last. And it wasn't, of course, spiced at all like this. Aurelie liked it more than she had the other time, and rather happily ate most of it right then. She supposed there was no reason to finish it before moving on, and yet.

Switching off sounded like a rather excellent idea. Having Aremu pick everything wouldn't have been terribly fair, and there was something rather pleasing about both of them trying the same thing at the same time. He was free not to, of course, but... Well, it was his suggestion, she reminded herself. So it was fine. Aurelie looked over everything.

"How about that one?" She settled at last on what looked like a sort of cooked salad, with cut green beans, a sort of thick white sprout, and a few different kinds of leaves of some kind. Spinach, she thought, and then couldn't identify the rest on sight. It was topped with something she couldn't identify on sight, either; bringing it closer she thought it was coconut, but it was a cheerful orange. Spiced in some way, then; everything, Aurelie thought rather cheerfully, always was.

Yes, it absolutely was. There was tamarind in it, and chili—beyond that, she hadn't much of an idea at all. No, she did—garlic, too, and something else that was going to bother her if she never figured it out. The vegetables themselves seemed to be just steamed or blanched, and had no spice of their own at all. The combination was rather fresh and pleasing. Aurelie put a bit of it on some rice, all the while watching to see what Aremu made of it.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Noon, Hamis 32, 2720
Ipúd Restaurant, Laus Oma

Aurelie liked the squid, he thought; she picked a vegetable dish next, and Aremu tried it with her, enjoying what tasted like spiced coconut on top of the vegetables. This one he dumped most of onto the plate, and ate without mixing it with the rice.

“It’s good,” Aremu said, grinning. “I like the coconut,” he picked up a few shredded pieces of it, carefully, tasting it. “The color is lovely. Chili, I think? Tamarind, maybe.” He mixed it with the vegetables and ate a bit more, this time with the rice.

“What do you think?” Aremu grinned at Aurelie.

It was his choosing next, and he choose the ladyfingers, curious what she would make of the green fibrous vegetables and the large seeds. They were trimmed into small pieces, and cooked not dry as he had had them there before, but in tomato and onion, thoroughly spiced and topped with bits of coriander.

They went that way dish by dish, slowly, tasting everything in careful exploitation, until there were very few choices remaining, and then none. Aremu knew he was smiling; Aurelie was smiling too. He knew better than to think he deserved this, any of it, but he thought he could find his way to being grateful for it nonetheless. They tried it all, all the meats and the vegetables, the green beans and the lentils, and by the end of it Aremu had eaten every bite of his food by then. down to the last grain of rice which he had mingled with his tam’oqap.

The servers came in again and set before them a smaller bowl of rice and an even smaller bowl of thin red soup; Aremu poured it over his rice, mixing them together with his fingers and eating them that way. The tomato broth was spicy, sweet and sour, with bits of coriander and curry leaves floating in it and a few small mustard seeds as well.

“This is called dhabir,” Aremu told Aurelie, smiling; he wiped his hand clean and drank the last of his juice. “After this, they’ll bring out a last dish - rice with yogurt, to settle the stomach after everything which has been eaten.” He wasn’t quite still hungry, not with the aching intensity he hadn’t been fully aware of earlier - but Aremu knew from experience he could quite cheerfully finish the kabir rice and the yogurt rice as well. His headache had eased, finally, off to the faintest throbbing which he could - and did - cheerfully ignore.

“Which was your favorite dish?” Aremu asked, smiling at Aurelie. I’m glad, he wanted to say, grateful, that you liked it; I’m glad you like our food. You do, don’t you? He thought of her small, intent, curious face, the smile on it, and he couldn’t find it in himself to spoil this with anxious asking.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Midday | Ipúd Restaurant, Laus Oma

"I like it too. It is pretty, isn't it? The colors are nice." Aurelie beamed back, happy that her selection was pleasing to both of them. Nevermind that they would try them all, in the end—it was nice to have picked one that they both liked.

Next they moved on to the lady fingers, which had a different texture than she had expected looking at them. She thought she liked the flavor of it, but the feel of them in her mouth was perhaps something to which she would have to adjust. They went on like this, trading back and forth in selection, Aurelie carefully considering each one before giving her opinion.

There was nothing she truly disliked; there was very little food at all, were she to be honest, about which she could find nothing good to say. Which wasn't to say she felt equally pleased with all of them, but it was all rather new and did like to have foods more than once before making a final opinion. With the very rare exception, she thought to herself, of raw onions. Those, she just couldn't abide.

With time they'd managed to finish it all. She'd hardly noticed, though she was carefully moving each empty dish out of the way. Soon there were none before her, only empty cups and the smile they'd left behind. Some of it she hadn't finished on her own, but Aremu had taken the rest of those.

"I might need that," Aurelie admitted. All of it was very good, but she had given in to the temptation to eat too much of it because of her enjoyment. And it was rather strongly spiced, with very few exceptions. Which she was enjoying, but her stomach didn't seem to agree so entirely. Any more than her hands seemed to be enjoying being used as utensils, but she sternly reminded all of the various bits of her that this was how things were done here, and they would simply have to adjust.

She ate about half of the small bowl of rice and the tomato soup, offering the rest to Aremu to finish. Aurelie could certainly eat well, but she was rather outclassed here. That pleased her in some strange way she tried not to think too deeply about. It was simply nice to see someone enjoy themselves, she told herself firmly.

Aurelie gave a thoughtful sort of hum at first in response to the question. "That's not fair; it's so hard to choose. But, ah, let's see." She thought carefully, lingering over each one. There was something to appeal in all of them, and there had been so many. Really, choosing just one was very difficult. She thought for a few moments, serious, and then gave up with a laugh and a slight shake of her head. "The one with the spiced coconut, maybe? Although, that might just be because I thought we could attempt to make it ourselves. Or the goat? Or... I'm not very good at choosing," she confessed. Not much of a confession, and she thought not having a favorite wasn't such a terrible thing.

"I, ah—thank you," she said after a brief pause. Aurelie looked across the table, and tried not to think about what her face was doing. Other than smiling; if there was more softness to it than there should have been, well. She would just ignore that. "This was a good idea. I, uhm. I had a lot of fun. Am having fun. Er. All of today, actually, but especially... I liked this, ah, very much."

A flustered sort of feeling came over her as she got to the end. I hope you are too, she couldn't quite say, though she thought it was there on her face. I hope it's not too terribly dull, spending so much time with me. He already did every day to begin with; the change of scenery hardly negated that. But he was smiling, and had been smiling, and she told herself to just trust that as much as she could. Her eyes dropped away to the table and she tucked a bit of her hair behind her ears self-consciously, but her smile remained in place.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Noon, Hamis 32, 2720
Ipúd Restaurant, Laus Oma

Aurelie slid the rest of her rice and dhabir over to him; Aremu grinned at her, and finished it without complaint. He sighed, happily, leaning back a little in his chair, the empty bowl resting before him; he wiped his hand clean again, and drank a little more of his water, using the pitcher on the table to pour more for both of them as Aurelie thought aloud.

She laughed; she’d laughed earlier, too, when he’d spoken of mango pickles; she’d laughed a lot, during the meal. When she forgot to be self-conscious, Aremu thought, smiling over the table at her, she usually did. He thought he knew that mostly because of how easy it was to see himself in it; his face ached, just a little, from smiling, but in the best sort of way.

He grinned again when she thanked him, sitting up a little, his eyes bright. “Oh, it’s – I’m glad, I, uh… I really did hope you would, I… you always seem to like trying different things, and I thought – “

The waiters swept in again, taking the bowls away, and bringing out bowls of rice mixed with curd; the only other thing left on the table was the mango pickles. Aremu grinned at Aurelie, taking a few and mixing them into his own dish; it wasn’t particularly neat to eat the milk-soaked rice, but it was rather soothing – even, he felt, with the pickle.

He was grateful for the interruption; he thought ruefully that he wasn’t usually so incoherent, but he hadn’t quite known what to say – he hadn’t quite known how far to go in it. He didn’t want to tell her that he’d wanted to bring he here since long before they’d first kissed; he didn’t want to tell her either how much he’d enjoyed her enjoyment.

“I think we could definitely try to make the spiced coconut,” Aremu said after a few more bites of rice, thoughtful. “Chili, tamarind – some sugar, I think, the fresh shaved coconut isn’t usually quite so sweet. I’m sure there’s more in it, but we could start there and see how that tastes – go from there,” Aremu grinned at her again.

There was a little more time to sit and then, as they’d sat, the room of them rose; there were washing basins on the way out of the restaurant, where all of them could stop and wash. Even as they filed out of the room, the waiters were already sweeping in to turn the tables over, to bring in the next round of diners; the waiting room, glimpsed as they went towards the exit, was as crowded as it had been when they first arrived.

“Do you want to walk a little?” Aremu asked as they made their way out to the street. “We can look for thread shops on the way, the cloth shops aren't more than half an hour from here. I thought it might feel good, too, after eating so much.” The day was warm – the sun was hot this time of day, year round – but there was a light scattering of clouds in the sky, and it was one of the days when the cool ocean breeze seemed to whisk all the way through the city. His hand twitched, and he quelled the impulse to reach out and adjust Aurelie’s hat, not wanting to overstep any more than he already had.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Afternoon | Walking Around Laus Oma

Her offer of thanks had seemed to take Aremu by surprise. Aurelie had to try very hard not to laugh, though there wouldn't have been anything unkind in it. She couldn't remember a time when she'd heard him stumble through his words so much. Almost as much as she did, a majority of the time. Almost.

As promised, the final dish of rice and curd was brought to them, and everything else swept away. All but the pickle, which Aremu took some of, grinning at her all the while. The whole thing was sort of distressingly messy to consume, but she did her best. There was nothing to be done for it, after all.

"That was my thought, too." How long had this idea been in his mind? Aurelie wondered, and there was no answer that didn't make her faintly flustered. As long as the bookstore? Less long, surely. By how much? Even without what had changed between them these past few days, or rather what— Aurelie didn't know where to put that either, the line that had been crossed and couldn't be undone. Even without that, she thought, it was still rather touching. She did try not to dwell on it too much, but it occupied a large portion of her thoughts as they left the restaurant.

"I would like to," Aurelie agreed as they stepped out to the street once more. A walk, she thought, was probably good. "Although I think it's more of a—a gentle roll, after all of that." The day was hot, but it would feel good to walk about for a bit. They didn't have to find a shop that sold the thread at all; this would still have all been... All been exactly what she wanted. She didn't think she could have planned a more pleasant day for herself if she'd tried, really.

The breeze tugged at the hat on her head and made a mess of her hair. Aurelie fixed the former, but the latter she had given up on. That was why she kept it short; there was only so much of a tangle it could really get in, like this. Actually, it was starting to get a little longer than she liked, again. She would have to cut it soon, if she didn't want to let it grow again. She could now; there was less work for it to get in the way of. She supposed she should, by most standards. Aurelie found, even just thinking about it briefly, that she didn't want to. She was perfectly happy with it the way it was.

A very, very pleasant day, all told. With a lot of things in it she wouldn't have imagined for herself, before she'd sent that letter. No, even after. Everything seemed to turn on a tally, becoming brand-new and trying to take her with it. It was... good. If terrifying. They started down the street at a comfortable pace; Aurelie let her hands rest comfortably at her sides. There was no change, she reflected, without things that were often faintly terrifying. She wanted change. She wanted to change, at least a little. To break the shell of the egg that was her small Brunnhold life.

Aurelie straightened her back, kept her chin as high as she could. She looked sidelong at Aremu next to her, feeling that sudden rush of fondness she was noticing more and more. That, too, was terrifying. That, too, was change. And less grand, lofty ideas than that. Aurelie could have laughed at herself, but she held her hand out between them instead. A shy invitation, hesitant but unmistakable.

He didn't have to take it, of course; she would let her hand drop away just as quietly as she'd held it out. But she wanted him to, even if the idea made parts of her squirm.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Noon, Hamis 32, 2720
Ipúd Restaurant, Laus Oma

Movement in the corner of his eye caught Aremu’s attention as he shifted the book bag on his right shoulder. His head turned a little, and he looked down to see Aurelie’s hand hovering in the space between them.

He didn’t think; he knew he should have, but he didn’t think. He reached down and took Aurelie’s hand in his, his fingers twining through hers.

They walked; perhaps they strolled, more, down the street.

“We’ll go this way,” Aremu said, smiling over at Aurelie; he led them off of the main thoroughfare, onto one of the many streets which ran across it.

The way they went was shady; it was, Aremu thought, perhaps a longer way than he might have chosen, but it was one where trees planted along the inside of the sidewalk leaned over the street and sidewalk both, where the breeze whisked through carrying the sharp salt scent of the sea.

“This neighborhood is called Aposadi’opib’oqaw,” Aremu said, smiling at Aurelie. “Center of many trees.”

I know it, he might have said - he couldn’t have said - because I know someone who lives here. I -

The houses here were larger, set back off the street; there were ornate wrought iron gates on some paths, with elaborate trees or bushes elsewhere making neat fences to line them. There were houses here, not apartments, larger by far, with hints of decoration peeking through the screen.

“It’s one of the wealthier parts of Laus Oma,” Aremu said with a smile, “at least within the city. The largest houses are on the outside of the city, where there are plantations like those on Dzum.”

“I think it was a arati - galdori - neighborhood originally,” Aremu went on, smiling down at Aurelie, “but these days it’s a blend - like much of Laus Oma - with humans and imbali as well.” He hadn’t pointed it out at the restaurant, but - while Aurelie had been the only foreigner in the room - there had been several other imbali, quite a few humans, and several galdori as well.

Aremu paused, glancing sideways, trying to remember. He had taken this way once, he thought, early in the morning; he remembered it in the pale dawn light, stained gray and pink; he remembered, he thought, a plate glass window.

“Over here,” he said, after a moment. There was a small street tucked there, more open; small, elegant cafes and other shops lined it. He hadn’t quite dared to hope he remembered, but it seemed he had; they came to a stop in front of a shop with - along with small glass jewels, seashells, delicate ribbons - a delicate display of threads set inside.

“Will this work?” Aremu asked, his thumb stroking lightly over Aurelie’s hand. “If you still want thread,” he shifted, looking down at her with a warm smile, too soft by far.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Afternoon | Aposadi’opib’oqaw, Laus Oma

In the end, it was easy. She reached out her hand and he took it, simple as that. No thought, no resistance; a request made and fulfilled in the same breath. Aurelie's heart stuttered in a pleasant way. If there was anxiety in it, that faded soon enough. The tight set of her shoulders eased, and she told herself she didn't know what she had been worried about in the least.

"The neighborhoods here have much more charming names than in Brunnhold," she remarked idly, without thinking about it. "If Doxeter means anything, for instance, I'm not sure I know what it is." Then, of course, there was the Scrapyard, but that wasn't an official name and it wasn't a neighborhood either. Aurelie tucked that one away. She did wish her thoughts would stop trying to spoil things, but they seemed rather determined.

Many trees seemed rather accurate, and Aurelie was grateful. The path they took was largely shaded from the sun overhead, providing her some relief from the heat of it. She was adjusting, she thought, but very slowly. Terribly slowly. The charming little hat could only do so much. She understood now why so many people seemed to never be quite properly dressed; she had no desire to join them, of course, but it made sense. Her sturdy, no-nonsense uniform would have left her melted on the floor. And it was only Hamis—she tried rather hard not to think about what Roalis or Yaris, even, must be like.

She wondered, suddenly, if she would know.

"Humans, really?" Aurelie couldn't help but be surprised; in other areas, at least, she had thought—well it just made more sense. It wasn't, she thought with a small frown, as if it mattered, or... It was just odd. Stranger somehow than to know that passives lived also in the same clearly wealthy area. They, at least, likely came from—no, she reminded herself, that wasn't right either. She supposed there was no reason why it couldn't be so here, just because it wasn't in Anaxas. There were fairly well-off human families in Anaxas anyway, weren't there? It wasn't quite the same, but she didn't know why she thought that.

The street they turned down was open, and lined with rather pretty little cafes and other shops of that appeal. "Have I ever told you about—er. Well. It's very silly," Aurelie said sheepishly, turning from a couple having lunch at a table outside one of the cafes to look up at Aremu again. She had started speaking without thinking; it wasn't very interesting, but to stop now was stranger than it was boring. "I used t-to... To pretend that I. Could have a shop like that. Er, well. Sometimes it was a cafe, but sometimes it was a bakery. And—uhm. Anyway."

The shop they had stopped in front of caught her attention straight away, stealing her from her embarrassment at having said all of that out loud. Aurelie stood in front of the window glass and looked carefully at the display. All sorts of pretty treasures were set elegantly out in little boxes or draped carefully and artfully to appeal to passers-by. She had almost forgotten she'd asked.

"I think so." Aurelie turned away from her study of the window display, only to be struck by the sight of that smile. He really was just so very—it wasn't fair, she thought, with no ire in it at all. "W-we'll, uhm, find out I suppose."

He'd already said it was all right, she reminded herself fiercely as they entered the shop in a shower of little tinkling bells. She didn't think—well she certainly hoped at least—that Aremu wouldn't simply put up with it if it were too terribly dull. She would, all the same, try not to take too long. Even if the moment they entered, her eyes drifted to a rather pretty selection of glass beads.

[Aremu Ediwo]

Noon, Hamis 32, 2720
Aposadi’opib’oqaw, Laus Oma

Could you have?

Aremu wanted to ask; they’d come to the shop before he’d had the chance, and Aurelie’s eyes were wide and bright as she admired the display in the shop window, and the last thing he wanted was to spoil it with idle questions. If you’d been otherwise, he wanted to ask, could you have had your shop?

He tried to think of the Anaxi galdori he knew; Niccolette he set aside, for he knew something of her family and where she had come from. He tried to imagine Willie, the pilot they had known for many years; he tried to remember how he had spoken of his family, and the sort of things they did. Galdori worked as chefs, though, or could; they worked as restauranteurs, in Anaxas, of that he was certain.

And women?

He glanced down at the soft strands of pale red hair as Aurelie leaned a little more forward; her eyes were bright, and she was smiling even than she had before. She turned it on him, and he knew he was grinning, then, almost irresistibly.

Aremu followed Aurelie into the shop; he didn’t ask, and he didn’t think of asking, for all that he wanted to know. Her hand had slipped from his, and he let it without taking it back, for all that he wanted to; it seemed better just then to let her wander herself, without being linked to him.

Aurelie turned and began to study the very first thing inside the door, a display of elegant little glass beads. She studied them, and then she studied them a bit longer, and then, as Aremu watched, she shifted a few inches and examined them from a new angle. A faint smile twitched over his face, and he drifted off, just a little, his left hand finding his pocket so that the bulges matched on both sides. He adjusted the bag of books with a shifting of his shoulder, and set about examining the bits of the shop for himself.

There was, definitely, thread. Aremu was not certain whether it was the right sort of thread, or whether there was, in fact, a right sort of thread. He thought there must be, if the thread Aurelie had had before was insufficient for the purpose – or had it been that she simply hadn’t had enough? Either way, he hoped this was the right sort of thread.

There were all sorts of other things as well – there was a little display of tiny glass animals, where Aremu glanced at and tried to mark, thinking he’d tell Aurelie some of the names when she reached them; he doubted she’d ever seen a camel – either kind – or a uliam or burrowing wasp. There was a small display of shells, also, which Aremu thought somewhat absurd; he saw more and lovelier shells on the beach by far.

Perhaps, he thought, he should take Aurelie looking for them – there was a good beach for shells on the other end of the mangroves, where there were more rocks than the one closer to the house. If she liked this, he reasoned, she might like that as well.

Aremu made a slow circle of the store, about as slow as he could manage. He glanced back to see Aurelie had progressed about two displays worth, and was now very intently examining a display of metal beads. Aremu shifted a little, and exhaled out the tiniest of sighs; he glanced up to see the dura sitting on a stool next to the counter grinning at him, her eyes crinkled at the edges, before she went back to polishing – yet more beads, Aremu thought. He stifled his second sigh, at least.

He did watch Aurelie, just a little, when he thought she wasn’t looking. She was somewhere between smiling and serious – like how she looked, he thought, when she cooked, or when she – well. When she was focused and happy at the same time. He could, Aremu thought, wait; he supposed he should have to. He went over to the display he had liked best, one of small wooden carvings, and did his best not to rush her – not with his actions, and not even in his heart. She deserved, Aremu thought, a good deal more than a little time to wander a craft store. He knew he couldn’t give her all of it, but this, at least, he could – would – manage.

[Aurelie Steerpike]

Hamis 32, 2720 - Afternoon | Aposadi’opib’oqaw, Laus Oma

Thread, that was all she'd come for. Thread and maybe, possibly, a frame on which to stretch the fabric as she worked. She was used to keeping the tension by hand now, but it did seem like it would be much easier with a hoop frame. Only if it wasn't too dear, although Aurelie had to admit—had admitted, repeatedly—that she didn't really have a good sense on what that meant. She had taken careful note of what things cost at the bookstore, at least, which could only help.

The display Aurelie started with was neither thread nor frames; Aurelie had been drawn, like a moth to a lamp, over to a display case of glass beads. She looked at each one in turn for a long moment, before moving on. She hadn't quite meant to, but when she tried to urge herself to look a little faster she was overcome by a strong nagging feeling of having potentially missed something. What, Aurelie couldn't have said. There were so many things here, each tiny shimmering bead worthy of attention.

When they had entered Aurelie had released Aremu's hand, as much to free him from having to stand next to her while she browsed as anything. He had been next to her for a moment, and then she could feel—sense—well she had the general awareness that he had moved away. She hadn't thought she took too terribly long. She was doing her best not to dawdle. After the glass beads, she moved to a display of—well, more beads. These were more irregularly-shaped, and the label on the display written in neat, clear Estuan and Mugrobi both said that they were sea glass. They were quite pretty, although large for any of her purposes. Not that, Aurelie reminded herself, she needed any beads at all. Really, she shouldn't even be looking.

Aurelie moved very carefully to a case of metal beads.

She had made it about halfway through the store before she realized by the sort of stiffness in her neck that she hadn't been making good on her promise to herself not to dawdle. Sheepishly Aurelie straightened; her eye caught that of the woman sitting on a stool next to the counter. The woman smiled, and Aurelie inclined her head politely. There was something about the set of her smile that brought warmth to Aurelie's cheeks; she had to have been looking much more intently than she realized. She hadn't even gotten to the embroidery floss, although she could see where it was.

The shop was modestly-sized, and Aurelie didn't quite have to search to know where Aremu was standing. She looked over and smiled apologetically. Bells and chimes. She hoped he wasn't too terrifically bored; she suspected she knew the answer, and couldn't quite bring herself to ask if he was after all.

It made her straighten, thinking on it, and she went then to the embroidery floss, without letting herself linger on any of the displays in between for things she wasn't after. Too much. She did look for just a moment at a case of pretty little glass animals, a funny soft smile on her face—they reminded her very much of the sort of thing she had "bought" for her mother on her birthday. Ana had taken her out to pick something every year, when she was old enough to be allowed in such shops. But she didn't stay on them for too long.

Now, she just needed to decide what colors. There was a dazzling array of them, skeins and skeins—and not just the cotton embroidery floss she was thinking of, either. Silk threads, and crewel yarn, ribbons—those, Aurelie knew, were wasted on her at her current skill level. Nicer floss, at least, would break less. She did pick up an embroidery hoop, at least, made of flexible wood with a shining metal screw. They weren't too dear, she told herself, although she didn't know if she believed it. She hadn't asked about that, after all. But Aremu had offered to buy her all of the books she had looked at, which she hadn't done—this was certainly less than even one of those. So it was all right. She hoped.

She looked over her shoulder again to Aremu where he waited, still, next to a display of what looked to be small wooden carvings. "I, uhm. I won't be too much longer. I promise." She just needed to decide on what colors she would like, and then they could leave. Not too man. Red, certainly, and green. But which ones? She looked at them and frowned, very intent.