Chapter Text
There’s something steadying about practicing sword sets.
That statement sounds like it should be wrong. People don’t hear the word ‘sword’ and think ‘relaxing’. Especially not if the sword in question was the one Connie is wielding now- nearly half her size, forged from a mineral that’s not of this world, a relic from an ancient intergalactic war. It’s not something to be put on displayed and admired: it is a true weapon.
But nonetheless, it is comforting, Connie thinks. There’s something meditative about carrying the sword through the series of familiar movements. She can get lost in the endless repetition of high strokes and low strokes, parries and thrusts and blocks. With no opponent or partner to stand against, it’s just her and the sword.
And besides. When you wield the blade of Rose Quartz in your hand, you feel like nothing can stop you. Nothing, not even-
Her thoughts are derailed by the sound of footsteps coming up behind her, accompanied by heavy breathing. Connie doesn’t let herself get distracted, though. Distraction leads to death; Pearl has drilled that into her.
So Connie continues with her sword practice, not slowing down at all. She does incorporate a twirl into her otherwise predictable set; it gives her a chance to see who has come up the hill to join her. With her quick spin she catches a brief glimpse of brown hair, bright red cheeks, and a garish sequinned sweater. Connie has to bite down a groan. It’s the last person she wanted to see just now.
She puts a little more force into her next few strikes than strictly necessary.
Connie continues practicing; her guest continues watching. Connie hopes that if she continues long enough, the other girl will get bored, lose interest, and go away. To the sword-fighter’s frustration, though, she eventually just sits down, settling into a comfortable position on the grass.
Connie does her best to ignore the inquisitive eyes watching her, throwing herself completely into her practice.
She continues on for as long as she can, hoping to wait the watcher out. But sitting on the grass is lot easier than performing an advanced sword fighting routine. The sun above her is hot, and despite the nearby ocean, the air is still without even a breeze. Connie begins to sweat; it drips into her eyes. Her chest heaves and her lungs begin the desperate fight to provide her muscles with the oxygen they need. Those very sam muscles burn. The sword in her hand grows heavier and heavier in her hand, the continued effort proving to be too much to bear.
Eventually, Connie had to admit to herself that she can’t continue. She needs to stop. She makes one last low-block, before thrusting her sword forward and upward, as if pressing it against the neck of an invisible opponent. Then, she finally lets the blade drop to her side, briefly bowing her head.
She takes several long, deep breaths. Then she turns to grab the scabbard lying a few feet away, pointedly not looking at her ‘guest’ as she does so.
-at least, until Connie sheaths her sword and finally looks up, only to find Mabel Pines standing right in front of her, smiling, and holding a water-bottle out towards her.
Connie just barely manages to jump out of the shock. Mabel’s the type of person who announces her presence with sirens, screaming and surprise-glomp-hugs; she had no idea she could be so quiet. Nonetheless, Connie forces herself to stare calmly at the girl.
In fact, Connie seriously considers not saying a thing to Mabel; ignoring her completely, and just walking away. But that would be rude. Too mean. And anyways, she can’t keep her eyes of the offered water bottle. She’s parched, and she’d been in such a rush before that she hadn’t even thought to grab something to drink herself.
So Connie relents, and takes the bottle. She uncorks the top, muttering, “Thanks.”
“No problem!” Mabel replies...
Whatever is in the bottle, it isn't water. It’s fruity- but definitely not fruit juice. Connie would have guessed it to be Gatorade or some other sports drink, but its way, way too sweet for that. Sweet enough that it would probably cause her mother to have a fit and immediately drag her off to the dentist, but at that moment, Connie really doesn’t care. It’s cold and liquid and that’s more than enough for her.
She chugs over half of the bottle at once. She finishes, panting. “What is this?” she gasps.
“Mabel Juice,” says Mabel, sounding distinctly proud. “Guaranteed to give anyone the energy they need! Excellent for fighting the bodies of possessed brothers!” Her bright smile fades notch when she sees Connie’s not-particularly-enthusiastic response. “Sorry, I didn’t have all the ingredients to make it properly.”
“It’s fine,” Connie says. “Thanks.”
Connie hands the bottle back, then turns to walk back down the hill, and towards the Temple. Or maybe to go back home. She’s not sure.
“Wait!” Mabel shouts after her.
Before Connie can even decide whether or not to respond, the girl is at her side, appearing…worried? “Are you okay?” she asks.
Connie looks away. “Fine.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem like it,” Mabel says, something unyielding in her voice. “You ran away so quickly before, and now you don’t even want to talk to me!”
“I just wanted to practice sword-fighting,” says Connie, “and now I’m tired. So please. Let me go."
Mabel stares at her. Hard.
Then she frowns. “You don’t like me very much.”
It’s not a question.
Connie feels heat rise in her cheeks. “What? No-“
“It’s true,” Mabel says, very matter-of-fact, cutting off her protests. “You don’t seem to like Dipper that much, either, but you seem to dislike me a lot more, and I don’t know why. You’re not stuck-up or anything, and you’re really nice to Steven and the Gems and everyone… so why me? Did I do something wrong?”
There’s frustration and anger on her face, but also genuine hurt, and Connie feels that guilt rising up in her throat like vomit. But no- she’s not the one who’s gonna feel guilty here, not when it’s Mabel who’s-
“Well, tell me,” Mabel demands, taking a step closer.
Connie’s grip around the scabbard tightens. “It’s stupid,” she says.
Mabel screws up her face kind of weird and looks at her. “Well, maybe it is,” she says. “But I still wanna know.”
Connie exhales. She doesn’t really want to do this. And anyway, she isn’t even sure how to start
“Is…it about the fusion?” Mabel asks, when Connie takes too long to answer.
“I- uh-“ stutters Connie.
“Because when I- we- whatever, showed up, you got all weird and then ran away,” Connie tells her. “We were worried.”
“You just- startled me,” Connie says.
“Startled? You?” says Mabel dubiously. “Come on. You’re not fazed by anything.”
“That’s not true!” Connie exclaims, and it really isn’t. She’s read and seen lots of fantasy, so she’s generally been able to take things like crashing space-probes and teleporting magical lions and alien monsters in stride, but sometimes it feels like she’s just barely hanging on. And when Stabel or Maven or whatever their fusion’s name is had waltzed through the door of Steven’s house- well, she had definitely been fazed.
(Or, to put it another way: startled and scared and jealous.)
So of course, Connie had escaped at the first possible opportunity and gone off to practice with her sword.
Mabel doesn’t say anything else- she’s just watching Connie with a concerned look. Connie remembers what she said: We were worried. She feels guilt gnawing away at her stomach.
“How’s Steven?” Connie asks. She hopes she didn’t upset him, while also recognising that yeah, she probably did.
“Fine,” Mabel says. “But he’s worried about you. We unfused pretty much as soon as you left; he wanted to come right after you, but I convinced him that I should go instead. He’s hanging out with Dipper.”
“Oh.”
Silence stretches.
“So…what happened?” asks Mabel. “I mean, you can’t have, like, freaked out. I know you’ve seen fusions before. Heck, you’ve fused with Steven!”
“That’s exactly the point!” says Connie, voice coming out louder than intended, and she can’t stop herself from saying, “I fused with him first!”
The silence is deafening.
Mabel scowls, her tiny and usually adorable body radiating with anger. “That’s ridiculous!” she roars. “You don’t have some sort of- of- monopoly on fusing with him! He can do whatever he wants! What would you have said if it had been Garnet, or Pearl, or Amethyst?”
“That’s completely different!” Connie yells back, and it is, it absolutely is. Because the Crystal Gems- they’re not comparable, they’re like Steven’s Moms, or his teachers, or teammates- or guardians, there’s no risk that-
- that- that they’ll-
And then, to Connie’s embarrassment, she realises that she’s begun to cry.
She wipes the tears away impatiently, but of course, Mabel’s already noticed. And, of course, since Mabel’s actually a nice person, her anger’s already fading, being replaced with concern. “What’s- what’s wrong?”
There’s no getting out of it. Connie lets herself sit down on the grassy slope, placing the sword besides her. Her vision is still blurry from the tears. She kind of wishes she’d brought her glasses with her, even knowing how useless they are now. Maybe she could get new glasses, reflective ones like Garnet’s.
“Steven was my friend first,” Connie says, in a small voice.
“You can have more than one friend,” Mabel points out.
“I know that,” she replies quickly, “It’s just- I mean, Steven’s the first one I’ve ever had.”
Mabel, frankly, looks amazed. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” Connie wipes away some fresh tears with the back of her hand. “I mean, I guess I had others before, but they never really lasted.” The reasons had varied. Sometimes Connie would change schools, and have to leave them behind; or they hadn’t been able to keep up with her busy extracurricular schedule; or Mom would find out something about them and decide their family wasn’t appropriate for her daughter. Or they would just lose interest. “And I don’t really- I don’t really understand why Steven even wants to be friends with me. He’s all cool and magical, and I’m just some- some boring nerdy Indian girl.”
“No you’re not!” protests Mabel. “You can sword-fight, and you go on all sorts of awesome magical adventures!”
“Yeah- but, I mean, the only reason I do any of that is because of Steven,” says Connie. “Before I met him and the Gems, nothing cool ever happened to me.
“But then there’s you. And Dipper,” she continues. “You’ve done all sorts of fantastic things, all by yourselves! You’ve- you’ve chased dinosaurs, and fought Dream Demons, and even seen unicorns! Actual real-life unicorns!”
“Unicorns are actually huge jerks,” Mabel says quickly. “We beat them up. They bleed rainbows.”
“You see? That’s my point! You’re so awesome! And you fused so easily with him. What if- what if Steven decides he likes you better than me? Decides he doesn’t want to hang out?” Connie pulls her knees up to her chest, her eyes burning fiercely. “I wouldn’t blame him.”
She stares blankly down the hill. A couple of seconds later, she feels Mabel’s warm form settle in close besides her. Not quite touching, but almost.
“Steven wouldn’t do that,” Mabel says. “He likes you. A lot. I was just in his head, so I know. He thinks you’re one of the coolest people in the whole universe, and considering who he knows, that’s saying a lot.” Mabel pauses briefly, then says, “I like you a lot, too.”
Connie’s not sure what to say to that. On one hand, it’s a nice thing to know. Really nice, actually. On the other hand, it just makes her feel eve worse about how she’s been acting. So for a while they just sit together, on the hill beneath the lighthouse.
Eventually, Mabel says, “You know, I never used to have a lot of friends, either.”
Connie looks at the other girl out of the corner of her eye. She has trouble believing that Mabel, with her endless abundance of colourful sweaters and glittery stickers and ridiculous jokes, could ever have trouble making friends. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Mabel says with a sigh. “I like people a lot, but sometimes I think they don’t always like me much. Dipper says that I come on ‘too strong’ or whatever and scare them off, but then, he’s not exactly a social butterfly, y’know?” She grins. “But no matter what, I’ve always had Dipper. And he always had me, so we never got lonely.
“And then,” continues Mabel, “We went to Gravity Falls.”
Ah, yes, Gravity Falls. Connie’s heard a lot about that strange and mysterious place since the Pine family moved to Beach City. A place which apparently manages to pack in enough questions and conspiracy theories to rival Twin Peaks, and where secrets lurk around every corner.
“I met Grenda and Candy there,” says Mabel. “They’re some of the most neatest people I’ve ever met! They were my people. And there was Wendy, and Soos, and even Pacifica, eventually, and I’d never ever had so many friends like that before, not ever.
“And then the summer ended,” says Mabel. “And we had to leave behind the Shack, and our Grunkles, and all our friends. We still write, of course,” she says, fairly, “But it’s not the same.
“Me and Dipper, we both thought it was going to be so boring. Back to school. Goodbye mysteries. Goodbye adventures. Goodbye friends.” She looks at Connie. “But then Mom and Dad said, ‘Guess what? We’re moving!’ So we ended up here, in Beach City. And then we met Steven, and the Gems, and you. And it turned out that things weren’t going to be that bad, after all.”
“Oh,” Connie breathes, softly. Mabel gives her a strange little smile.
“I guess what I’m saying,” begins Mabel, “Is that I really do like you. You seem pretty cool. And I want to be your friend. If you’d like.”
“…well. Sure.” Connie says, amazed that’s even something she’s being offered. “I’d- like that. And, er. I’m sorry. For before.”
Mabel shrugs, good naturedley. “Apology accepted!” Then she extends a hands. “So. Friends?”
After a brief moment of hesitation Connie takes it, and shakes it. “Friends.”
Mabel grins broadly at her, and answers with a strong shake of her own before letting go. “And if it helps,” the odd girl says, “if I was able to, I’d want to fuse with you, too.”
Connie’s stomach does a little flip, and she feels yet another blush warming her cheeks, this time for a very different reason. “Uh,” she stutters. “Um. Yeah, that would be cool. I guess.” She grabs her sword and climbs to her feet as a way to hide her awkwardness. Then she says, “I’d have to warn you, though, I’m not a very good dancer.”
“Well, I’m a great dancer!” Mabel says, and then she jumps to her feet, eyes wide with excitement. “I know, I know! I could give you dancing lessons! And exchange for showing you my moves, you could teach me yours! You know, with a sword!”
Connie stifles a laugh as she watches Mabel mime a few highly impractical sword slashes at a non-existent enemy. “Well,” she says, “Only if you also show me how to use your grappling hook.”
Mabel finishes with her fake fencing, and stares at Connie with what the girl thinks is just faux seriousness. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Maheswaran,” Mabel says, then the mask cracks as a smile breaks through, “but deal!”
Connie smiles back at her new friend. “Okay,” she says. “Then let’s head over to the Temple, and go see if Pearl will help you pick out a sword.”
And together, the two of them make their way back down the hill.