Work Text:
Nita looked over, for the seventeenth time, at the foliage-shrouded patch of earth in their backyard from which Dairine and Roshaun were expected to emerge at any moment. It had long perplexed her: always in a rush, Dairine was nonetheless chronically late to appointments.
It’s unfair to Dad, she thought. Dairine’s been living off-planet all summer, and she can’t even show up on time for the one family dinner we’re going to have in July?
“Maybe we should start up the barbecue,” her dad suggested, easing himself out of his lawn chair and sending one more glance of his own to the back garden. “Nita, can you set up some buns with fixings? Dairine still likes ‘em with everything, doesn’t she?”
“She –“
Pop!
“Aha! The royal couple approacheth,” said Nita’s dad, not quite under his breath.
Nita grinned. She’d had this moment planned for a while: She pulled open her wizard’s manual, whispered a few words, and waited for the opening strains of “Pomp and Circumstance” to play while Dairine barrelled out of the bushes, an annoyed look on her face.
“Yeah, haha, funny, hi Dad, hi Neets!” said Dairine, throwing herself into a full-body hug with their dad while Nita studied her. Dairine didn’t quite look like Nita’s mental image of her -- she was even shorter than Nita remembered, and her hair had grown well past her shoulders, braided above her forehead and feathered in back.
It was strange how a change in haircut could make her sister look unfamiliar. She’s still the same person, Nita reminded herself. She’s just been living in a place where people put a premium on appearances… especially people living in the royal palace.
Speaking of the royal palace, Dairine’s partner had sauntered after her, and now stood surveying the garden. Roshaun ke Nelaid, Guarantor of Wellakh, had learned – in the course of some furious and deeply personal arguments with Nita and Dairine -- that the aesthetic standards of the very rich couldn't fairly be applied to other families. But with very little prior practice in hiding his disdain for poverty, he was unmistakably frowning at the barbecue sitting cold while Dairine and her dad got caught up.
“Hey, your Highness,” Nita said, smiling slightly. “I’d go in for a hug, but if I recall right, you don’t do hugs.”
“Your memory serves you faultlessly,” Roshaun agreed, giving her the same smile.
“Well.” Nita waved a hand toward the lawn table they’d set out, with plastic pitchers of lemonade and salad. “As usual, our servants are taking the day off, so I’m gonna go start up the grill. We’re cooking hamburgers.”
The truth was, Nita still didn’t like Roshaun. She could appreciate Dairine’s respect for his talents, but she suspected it was going to be many, many years and some attitude changes before they could be friends.
And watching her dad at dinner, she thought maybe he was thinking the same kinds of things. It wasn’t that there was active conflict, ever; her dad was too polite and Roshaun was too practiced at filial evasion. But that was just it: Roshaun treated their dad the same way he treated his dad, which could have been out of courtesy to Dairine but could also have been… well…
The idea that I could be sitting next to my future brother-in-law is just incredibly weird, Nita thought. Perhaps she was projecting, but she wondered if the way her dad paused briefly as if choosing his battles before responding, the way he looked a little resigned, meant that he was also gearing up for the long haul and not liking it.
Nita excused herself early by offering to do the dishes. She was still rubbing mineral oil into the wooden salad bowl when she heard the screen door open.
“Hey,” said Dairine behind her. “Daddy and Roshaun are comparing inventory management systems and I’m thinking they’ll be at it for another hour. You almost done with the dishes? We could watch something on Netflix. On Wellakh I can’t even watch TV on Spot at the end of the day; I’ve spent so long working in the Speech that it’s actually more work to comprehend basic English.”
“I’ve just got to wipe down the counter and then we’re done,” said Nita. “What are you into these days?”
“Nostalgia,” said Dairine immediately. “That’s the point, isn’t it?”
“Uh, the point of what?” Nita asked.
“This trip.” Dairine started moving toward the stairs. “C’mon, Neets, you can finish cleaning up later. Or let Roshaun do it; I told him he was going to have to do chores this time around.”
Nita threw her sponge in the general direction of the sink and followed her sister up the stairs. “You’ll have to explain to me why coming home from a summer abroad is nostalgic,” she said dryly, choosing not to address the ludicrous idea of Roshaun even beginning to know how to do chores. “I thought it was more about reassuring Dad that you hadn’t accidentally incinerated yourself in the practice star and your messages home weren’t part of an elaborate Wellakhit coverup.”
What part of that merited the withering look Dairine tossed her way, Nita wasn’t sure; probably the suggestion Dairine could ever mess up that badly. How quickly we forget.
Instead of her own room, Dairine made for Nita’s. She climbed onto the bed with its moon-and-stars bedspread, punched up Nita’s pillows into a cozy backrest, and settled herself in comfortably.
“Here,” she said, motioning Nita to join her. “I’m gonna put on Real Genius and try not to feel smug about graduating from high school two months after you.”
Nita blanched. “You what?!”
“That’s the other point to this trip,” Dairine explained. “I finally persuaded Daddy that getting a GED early would make much more sense than marching in lockstep through another mediocre two years of high school. I’m wasting my time here. Nita, you can’t understand how boring last year was for me. It was like working through Easy Readers when you’re already checking out Victor Hugo from the library.”
“Look – I know you’re way ahead of the other kids,” Nita said, and sighed. She watched Dairine's face sideways, wondering if Dairine would always look this young and this determined, and trying to picture her little sister free of any school-related constraints for the next year. It was slightly terrifying. “But what are you going to do next? Are you going to apply to colleges? And what did you tell Dad you were going to do in the meantime?”
Dairine looked away.
“You’re not going to apply to colleges,” said Nita slowly, realizing. “You’re going back to Wellakh.”
“It’s not home,” Dairine admitted. “But it’s an education. Free room and board, too; Daddy can’t complain about that.”
I’d’ve thought his pride would complain, more than anything, thought Nita. “But, Dairi,” she said. “What about people? Don’t you want to be around your own species?”
Dairine shifted around to face Nita and give her a good, long, stare with those cool grey eyes. “This, from the sister who’s been hinting I’m an unconvincing alien changeling since, oh, since I was born?”
Nita had to smile. “In fairness, it was mostly a compliment,” she pointed out. “I’ve always had a soft spot for aliens.”
“Yeah, well,” Dairine said, smiling a little as well. “Me too.”
“Speaking of which….” Nita said, scooting up against Dairine and elbowing her gently. “Roshaun, huh?”
Dairine flushed and looked away again. “Shouldn’t be news, after two years,” she muttered.
“The part where you’re dating? Nah,” Nita agreed. “The part where you’ve moved in with him—“
“Separate bedrooms!” Dairine insisted, turning redder. “Separate wings! If they were any more separate they’d exist in different dimensions. They did once,” she added. “Sker'ret plays epic hide-and-go-seek.”
“Yeah, well,” Nita said. “It’s just… Are you sure you’re not just moving to Wellakh to be near him?”
Dairine shrugged. “Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “But what if I did just want to be near him? He’s my partner. We’re supposed to be together.”
It left her breathless: the sudden understanding that so much of what she disliked about Roshaun tonight, this week, this month, really wasn’t his fault at all. I was jealous, Nita thought furiously. I am jealous. The one thing I had that she didn’t...
She turned away from Dairine, hoping it wouldn’t show and knowing that Dairine picked up on just about everything.
She hadn’t expected the hug drawing her close. “Hey,” Dairine said softly, next to her ear, arms around her waist. “Hey, come on. You’ve got it easy. You can just pop between each other’s dorm rooms as easy as walking down the street. It’s not gonna be a big deal.”
“It’s not just that,” Nita said miserably, hating the way her voice broke. “I mean, yeah, it’s that. No one wants a long-distance relationship. But we’re not just, you know. We’re partners. We don’t function if we’re not – in the same space. We get into trouble. We mess up. We’re supposed to be together. And if we’re not together…” She swallowed. “If we’re not together anymore, then maybe we’re not supposed to be partners anymore.”
“Logic fail, Neets,” said Dairine. “If you’re not supposed to be partners, then why would you need each other for successful wizardries?”
“But what if we don’t?” wailed Nita. “What if he goes off to MIT, and I go to Oswego, and we’re 300 miles apart, but we’re just fine?”
Dairine was silent. Nita glanced over at her little sister, and was unnerved all over again, because the expression on Dairine’s face was exactly like their mom’s face when one of them had said something incredibly silly and she was just waiting, eyebrow raised, for them to realize it.
“…Yeah.” Nita sighed. “Yeah, I’m worrying too much, huh?”
“It’s kind of your specialty,” Dairine reminded her, and dodged a punch. "Look, Neets. What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Oh!" Nita said, stricken. "Kit and I were going to go check on the alligators we rehomed a while back -- we pulled them out of the Peconic and found a place for them in the Everglades, but it sounds like they're not acclimating too well. But I can put that off another day--"
"Wow, no, not what I was getting at at all," said Dairine. "Dad's going to waste most of tomorrow on a serious talk about my future, and Roshaun's not going to tell you this but he's actually desperate to finish this book he started while we were waiting for our connection at the Crossings. My point was, you're spending tomorrow with Kit. You're spending the rest of the summer with Kit. Do you really think Kit is even gonna let you drift apart? You think he's not going to show up at your school on the second day of Orientation Week? Please."
"It's not the second day I'm worried about," argued Nita. "It's the forty-second day. It's whenever he meets people who are smarter, more interesting, and more his speed than anyone he knew in high school. Maybe even other wizards -- there's got to be hundreds of them up there." She shrugged. "I think about the other partners I know, and they mostly met when they were older. What if... what if the person that means the most to me now ends up not meaning that much to me? It'd be like losing myself."
"You'll only lose him if you find something better," said Dairine. "He's not going to let you go that easily. But I can't convince you until it happens -- so, you want to watch that movie now?”
“Sure.” Nita watched Dairine’s computer appear silently, floating two inches above her bedspread. “Hey, Spot. Long time no see.” She stole one of her pillows back from Dairine, ignoring the indignant squawk, and settled in to watch the movie.
“…Dairine?”
“Whaaat?”
“Dad’s really going to miss us.”
“I know,” Dairine said. “But he knew this day was coming.”
“Yeah, but…” Nita hesitated. “Just be nice to him, okay?”
“Yeah, whatever. Hey, maybe we should take him back to Wellakh with us. Do you want to go? Family vacation? Two weeks in sunny dystopia?” Dairine patted Nita’s knee without taking her eyes off the screen. “Kit can come too.”
“Kit always comes too.”
“Attagirl.”