Chapter Text
Uranus was back in his own orbit. He was surprised to find himself happy to return. As much fun as he’d had getting to know Planet X and traversing the Solar System with him, Uranus was a homebody by nature and was comforted by the books and art supplies and old diaries that peppered his prescribed orbit. It was familiar and calming. There was, of course, the loneliness to deal with, but there wasn’t much he could do about that…was there?
Gazing inward toward the Sun, he gave brief consideration to X’s earlier proposal: getting him moved to Saturn’s orbit. It certainly was a tempting offer. A bit more warmth, much less isolation – not to mention he’d be orbiting next to his new friend. And if Neptune were moved to Uranus’ old orbit, then the plan would benefit the darker blue planet as well. Coming inward from the Kuiper Belt – even if it was just by one orbit – surely would improve his psychological state.
But then Uranus thought of Saturn and the proposal immediately lost its appeal. Neptune’s orbit would be torture for anyone, but it would surely be harshest for the Solar System’s most outgoing, social planet. They’d all seen what such isolation did to Neptune; what would it do to Saturn, who could barely let a few hours pass without starting up a conversation with someone? And what of his moons? Some of them may hold life, after all…
Uranus had no doubt that X was telling the truth about Saturn’s role in his expulsion. But did Saturn, regardless of what he did, really deserve to spend the rest of his existence skirting along the edge of the Kuiper Belt, cloaked in frigid darkness and haunting quietude?
Did anyone?
Then he remembered that X had had it worse than that for billions of years. He’d had it much worse than that. But still…Uranus didn’t feel like it was within his own rights – or ability – to judge Saturn for his past crimes and sentence him to such a fate, especially without hearing Saturn’s side of the story. And it was a side of the story he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get, as he still didn’t feel up to talking to his neighbor. Not yet. Not until Uranus cooled down a bit after learning what Saturn had done to X.
So for the time being, Uranus chose to table his thoughts on the proposed orbital shuffling. If X brought it up again, they could talk about it then. In the meantime, he could return to his well-established routine. After transcribing his previously dictated entry into his diary, and after a brief but unsuccessful hunt for his moons (perhaps they’d gone with the others without him noticing?), he selected a book from his vast library and dedicated long stretches of his time to reading.
He was nearing the end of said book when X arrived for an unexpected visit. Uranus had been so engrossed in reading that he failed to even register X’s gravitational pull as the larger planet approached and was thus startled when he heard his deep voice.
“Hey, you.”
Uranus gave such a start that he nearly lost the grip on his book. But he managed to hold onto it, saving himself from embarrassment in front of his new acquaintance. Despite his surprise, he was happy to see other ice giant and smiled at him as he tucked a bookmark between the pages.
“Hey, X. W-what are you doin’ way out here?”
X smiled. “I just came for a visit. After all, that’s what friends do, right?”
The ringed planet brightened. “Yeah, mate,” he said with a smile and a pleased laugh. “For sure.”
X looked at Uranus’ book. “What are you reading?”
“Oh, uh, just some Dickens. Oliver Twist.” He held the book out for X to see.
The darker planet nodded. “One of the Earthlings’ greatest.”
“You know him?”
“I know of him,” X replied. “I know the name. And I know the names of some of his works.
“Oh, you’d love him, mate,” Uranus said. “I don’t know if I can even recommend one to start with since I probably couldn’t pick a favorite…” He launched into a list of reasons why he enjoyed that particular Earthling’s work. It had been a long time since Uranus had gotten a chance to gush over literature, and he eagerly guided X over to his library to show him his collection.
“I’m partial to The Pickwick Papers, myself,” he said with a grin, grabbing his copy of said book and showing it to X. “It’s his first published novel and probably his most humorous one.” He set the book aside and grabbed another. “Don’t sleep on Nicholas Nickleby, though. It might not be as well-known as some of the others, but it’s classic Dickens style. Oooh, or this one…”
Uranus went book-by-book, giving a brief comment for each before moving onto the next. He was so enthralled at the prospect of recommending reading materials that he didn’t even notice his own rambling until he’d worked through every Dickens novel he owned and realized that he’d failed to give X the chance to say a single word throughout the whole thing. The bigger planet didn’t seem upset, though; rather, he looked quite amused at Uranus’ joyful ramblings and even more amused at the flustered apology that followed.
“Oh, s-sorry, mate,” Uranus said, quickly moving to collect the books he’d pulled from his library in his excitement. “Didn’t mean to go on like that—”
“Nah, don’t be sorry,” X said with a smirk. “I think this is the most animated I’ve seen you since we met. I’m glad you have a hobby that gets you so excited.” He laughed as he observed the scattering of books around them. “Thanks for the five-minute run-down on Dickens’ work.”
Uranus smiled, glad that X didn’t think he was being too silly with his love of reading. “You’re welcome to borrow any of my books if you’d like,” he said to his companion. “You can take them back to Jup— back to your orbit and keep them as long as you need.”
“Oh. Really?”
“I insist. Here.” He pushed his two favorite Dickens books towards X. “Take a look at these two. If one sounds good to you, feel free to take it.”
X hesitated a moment before taking them. He flipped them over. Uranus’ smile faded as he watched his companion’s eyes travel from book to book. X was studying the blurbs on the back, but there was something off about it all. He was looking back and forth too quickly to actually be reading the short synopses. Could it be…?
“Hey, uh…” Uranus paused, almost afraid to ask, but then asked anyway. “C-can you read, X?”
The smirk on X’s face slowly dissolved.
“I…” His eyes lingered on Uranus for a second before he looked away. “I can…a little,” he finally said. “Or at least I used to be able to. I was just starting to teach myself before…y’know…”
“Before you got thrown out of the Solar System?”
X nodded, embarrassed, but tried to mask his embarrassment with another smirk. “I’d just gotten the basics down, too. But neither Jupiter nor Saturn were kind enough to fling any books out in my direction after me, so I had nothing with which to keep on learning.”
“Oh, mate, I’m sorry,” Uranus looked at him with sincere regret. “I didn’t even think about that. I should’ve realized. Instead here I am, going on and on about reading, shoving all these books in your face…”
“Hey. Don’t worry about it. Really. It was nice to hear you talk about something you enjoy.”
Despite this reassurance, Uranus still felt badly for just assuming X could read. It was an assumption that rode on another assumption – that X had had the same opportunities that Uranus and the other planets had had in their youth – and this was obviously not the case. And in the moment of this realization, Uranus felt like this was the biggest injustice of them all. Not only had X been forced into an existence of dark, cold, undeserved solitude for billions of years, but he’d been deprived of any real chances to intellectually or creatively thrive.
Uranus considered the wealth of books he’d amassed over the centuries. These books served to satisfy his intellectual curiosity. His eyes then turned to his writing and art supplies sitting not too far away. His notebooks and pens, his paint, his markers, his clay – all allowed him the ability to translate his imagination into reality.
So much of his own identity was tied to his love of literature and his ability to create. What would he be without the materials that let him feed this part of himself? Would he even be able to stay sane without them?
For the first time in a long time, Uranus felt genuine anger. How spoiled he and the other planets were! How they lived in such opulence without even acknowledging it! And how utterly unfair it was that X had grown up with none of it, all through no fault of his own. This anger, though intense, dissipated quickly, as Uranus realized he had a unique opportunity to try and make things right – or at least make them better.
“Y’know,” he said, breaking the silence between them, “if you were already getting the basics down when you were younger, I bet you could pick up from there pretty easily if you started with something simple.”
X looked at him, confused. “You think I can still learn how to read?”
Uranus nodded.
“I don’t know…that seems like something you can only learn how to do when you’re young.”
“Nah, mate,” Uranus replied with a smile. “It just takes practice and starting at a level you’re comfortable with.” He thought for a second. “I have a few books that would be good starters for you. Would you like me to get one of them? We can go through it together.”
“You…you want to help me read?”
“I’d be happy to,” Uranus replied genuinely. “But only if you want to. I don’t want to force you…”
The bigger planet hesitated, and for a moment, Uranus was afraid he’d overstepped with his offer and caused X to feel embarrassed about his current reading skills. In another second, though, X was smiling, a look of gratitude on his face.
“Well,” he said, “I guess I would like to see why you’re making such a fuss about Dickens.”
Uranus laughed. “Cheers, mate. Then we’ll get you to Dickens. First things first, though…”
He dug through his library and found three of his most basic books. They were books he used to read to his moons when they were very young and figured they’d be a good way to gauge X’s current abilities. He gave his companion the easiest of the three.
“Let’s try this one,” he said. “Take it as slow as you need. I’ll help you if you get stuck.”
So X, book in hand, moved toward Uranus – no doubt with the purpose of allowing Uranus to see the pages alongside him as he read – but Uranus instinctively backed away so quickly that it shocked the larger planet.
“Woah,” X said, backing off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Sorry, I—”
“I can stay over here—”
“It’s just that—”
Their overlapping talk ceased, replaced by nervous laughter.
“Sorry, mate,” Uranus said again. “I-it’s just instinct whenever anyone gets too close. I’m sure you know about my…well…”
X knew what he was talking about. “Your…atmospheric composition?” He offered as a polite replacement for “smell.”
Uranus nodded, embarrassed that it was even an issue. He hated that X knew he smelled, but the last thing he wanted was for him to have to experience the odor firsthand.
But X’s response surprised him. “I can guarantee that won’t be an issue, Uranus. Want to know something about me?”
“Sure.”
X tilted his chin up, as if he were proud of what he was going to divulge. “I can’t smell.”
“What?”
“I can’t smell. Never been able to.”
“R-really? You can’t smell?”
X shook his head.
“Why?”
X shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve just never been able to.”
“Huh.” Uranus considered this. He didn’t even know that was a thing, but it made sense once he thought about it. There were those unable to see or unable to hear, after all. Smell was just another one of the senses; surely it could be absent in the same sort of way.
“So like I said…” X moved a little closer. “I don’t think your atmospheric composition will be an issue for us.”
Uranus gave him an embarrassed little smile - one that quickly turned into a smile of relief. His odor was something he was always aware of and was something that, consciously or not, made him hesitant to get too physically close to others. It was another source of anxiety for him, along with his name and his rings. It would be nice not to have to even worry it when he was with X.
So he nodded, indicating that X should move to be by his side. X obeyed. They couldn’t get too close, of course, but it was the closest either of them had been to another celestial body in a long time. They were close enough that they could both comfortably read the pages of the book. They were close enough that Uranus could feel his rings vibrating with X’s gravitational influence. They were close enough that it was almost awkward.
But they quelled this awkwardness by just not acknowledging it and instead focusing on the task at hand. Starting with the book Uranus had given him, the two embarked on X’s first reading lesson.
X was nervous at first. It had been a long time since he’d last read; what if he’d overestimated his retention of whatever reading skills he’d developed in his youth? What if he couldn’t make it through a single sentence? The possibility of Uranus judging him due to his lack of reading skills was a real concern for him as they started in on this first book.
But he quickly discovered that the smaller ice giant was patient, understanding, and eager to help. X read aloud slowly and haltingly. He stumbled over many of the words, pausing entirely at ones he didn’t know. Uranus waited each time, giving X a moment to figure things out on his own but prompting him with a gentle hint whenever he truly got stuck. He pushed X to sound out any unfamiliar words and gave him clues about the pronunciation of certain combinations of letters.
It took a long and concentrated effort, but X was able to get through the short book with much assistance from his companion.
“That was tough,” he said upon completion.
“But you did it, mate,” Uranus said with a smile. “You read the whole book. I’m proud of you. You should be proud of yourself.”
The praise felt good but unearned. “You did most of the work,” X said. “Also, I feel a silly sitting here struggling with a children’s book when you’re out here effortlessly reading Dickens and Tolstoy and Shakespeare and—”
“And all the other books and authors I’ve had access to because I’ve spent my whole existence within the Solar System,” Uranus interrupted. “My advantages are the difference in our reading abilities, X. That’s it. And that’s part of the reason why I want to help you.”
“Part of the reason?” X raised and eyebrow and smiled as Uranus responded with a nervous little grin.
“Well, it would be nice to have someone else out here to talk about books with,” Uranus admitted. “But also, you’re my friend. I want to help you feel like you belong here in the Solar System with the rest of us, even after all this time. And one thing the rest of us have learned to do is read.”
X’s smile faded. “Well, if I’m going to be talking about books with anyone, it’ll probably just be you, anyway. None of the other planets have even spoken to me yet. Well, except for Neptune, and he’s still gone. And Saturn, but…”
Uranus seemed surprised to hear this. “None of the rockies have said hello to you yet? Not even Mars?”
X shook his head.
“I’m sorry, mate.”
“Ah, it’s okay. Besides, I can always hang out with you, right?”
Uranus’ smile, which had diminished upon learning of X’s lack of other connections in the Solar System, blossomed into a toothy grin. “Definitely.” He then moved to pick up the second book he’d brought with him from his library and held it out towards X.
“Want to try another?”
X’s second attempt at reading went much smoother than the first. Perhaps it was because he’d already built up a familiarity with many of the simpler words and thus breezed over them without a second thought. Perhaps it was his heightened confidence after getting through the first book. Or perhaps it was because he was less hesitant when encountering new words and attempted them more readily, knowing that Uranus was not going to judge him or make fun of his lack of skills.
Likely due to a combination of these reasons, X tackled this second book with more gusto and finished it with much more ease, needing fewer hints from his companion and reading in a less stilted, more natural cadence. The quick improvement did not go unnoticed.
“You’re picking this up fast,” Uranus commented with a smile once X was done with the second book. “You’re really smart, mate.”
X smiled in return. “Well, you’re a good teacher. I expected as much. After all, I watched you teach yourself to read when you were quite young. You didn’t even need Jupiter’s help.”
“I guess it just comes naturally to me.”
“That’s because you’re smart, too. Has anyone ever told you that?”
Uranus shrugged. “I-I don’t really ever hear many compliments in general.”
“Well, it’s true.”
They shared another gentle, genuine smile before returning to the reading lesson and beginning the last of the three books. X was making good progress, surprising himself with just how fast old knowledge returned to him and how easy it was to build upon it. He was even aware enough of what he was learning to start recognizing some of the inconsistencies in pronunciation for words that had similar spellings and inconsistencies in spelling for words that had similar pronunciations.
At one point, he went on a tear about the inconsistent pronunciation of the letter combination “ough.” There was a touch of genuine anger behind his words – it was the letter grouping that had thus far tripped him up the most, after all, and it was frustrating that it seemed to have a different pronunciation every time he encountered it – but halfway through his tirade he caught Uranus smiling at him and trying his best to hold back a laugh.
“I’m not laughing at you, mate,” the smaller planet explained in response to X’s quizzical look. “You’re just putting into words a very common and frustrating experience with learning to read.”
Uranus’ amusement diluted X’s actual frustration and X smiled. “Why,” he asked, “out of all the possible languages, did we pick this one?”
Uranus chuckled. “Beats me, mate.”
Seeing his companion laugh brought a lightness to X’s core that he hadn’t felt in a long time and he laughed back. Were the two of them…having fun? It was so foreign a feeling that X didn’t quite know what to call it. But he wanted more of it, whatever it was. So he feigned similar lighthearted rage at other spellings and pronunciations, each time earning a laugh from his companion and, subsequently, a feeling of warm happiness within himself. Uranus went on a couple of his own rants about pronunciation which got X laughing as well.
It felt good to laugh – to genuinely, earnestly laugh – even over something so trivial. X couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed like this. It felt strange. It felt good.
Their laughter over the absurdity of the English language delayed X’s finishing of the third book, but he eventually reached the final page and ended the story. Their lesson was complete.
“Thank you, Uranus,” he said, handing the book back to him. “I…I enjoyed this.”
“I did, too. It’s been a long time since I’ve helped anyone learn to read. I guess the last group I taught was my most recent set of moons, back when we were a lot closer. But that was a long time ago.” He said it with a somewhat regretful tone but then smiled softly as he remembered the past. “Y’know, I actually used to write stories and read them out loud for my moons.”
X smiled. “I bet they loved that.”
“They did.”
“Why’d you stop?”
A sadness crept behind Uranus’ eyes as he considered the question. “We grew out of it, I guess. All of us did. They got older and started spending more time amongst themselves and I…” He looked at X, and then away. “I kind of self-isolated, I guess. As you’ve probably seen, I’ve never gotten to talk to the others very often out here. Saturn was always with Jupiter and Neptune was off doing…whatever Neptune does. So I just sort of…“turned off” when it came to socializing for the most part. I also started reading a lot. As alone as I was, every time I opened a book I felt like I was surrounded by others. And I felt like I mattered because it was like the story had been written just for me to interpret and make my own.” He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess it’s just a good escape from loneliness, y’know?”
X nodded. “I can see that. Having some books during my banishment sure would have been nice. Having anything during my banishment would have been nice.”
This reminder of X’s banishment caused Uranus to immediately regret his last statement.
“Oh, I-I’m sorry mate,” he said, ducking his head in embarrassment. “I shouldn’t complain about ever having been lonely. Not after what you went through. I’m really sorry—”
“Don’t be.” X moved toward him. “We’ve both been lonely in our own ways. But now that we’re…friends…”
“We can be lonely together?” Uranus smiled to indicate he was joking and X laughed.
“Something like that.”
The two continued to converse for some time, but X could feel fatigue taking over. The reading lessons had taken more out of him than he’d expected. And as much as he wanted to continue their discussion, both he and Uranus agreed that to best avoid the wrath of the Sun, X should return to his orbit while he still had the energy to do so.
After supplying X with several additional books to practice with, Uranus wished his new friend a safe trip back. The two parted with far less awkwardness than the last time they’d visited. There was an unspoken ease between them now; this time spent in leisure together created a bridge that spanned whatever remaining chasm of unfamiliarity that exited between them. Despite never having known him before, X felt a comfortable familiarity with Uranus that he’d never experienced with anyone else. As he made his way back towards the Asteroid Belt, he wondered if Uranus felt the same way.
Indeed, Uranus was also experiencing this newfound familiarity. And as he often did with significant events in his life, he spent some time just reflecting on it – tossing it around in his mind, looking at it from multiple angles – before writing down his response to it in his diary.
Dear Diary,
I spent a good amount of time with X today. We practiced reading. He claims he’d only learned the basics before his banishment, but I suspected he’d learned more than he initially remembered based on how quickly he picked it back up. He really is very smart.
Normally, spending that much time with someone else would be draining. You know me, Diary: I like being with others, but I find it exhausting if I don’t get some time to myself to recharge. What’s that Earthling word for it? “Introversion?” That’s what I have – or what I am – I guess. Whatever you call it, I didn’t feel it today when I was with X. I felt like we could have just kept talking and talking without ever getting tired of it. I felt comfortable around him.
I don’t know what it is, but it’s almost like I’ve known him my whole existence despite never having met him until quite recently. I’d say it’s our shared experiences – he’s been alone and I’ve been alone – but it doesn’t seem fair to reduce what he’s been through to just being “alone.” I’ve been “alone” out here in my orbit. But he’s been in solitary confinement. It’s not the same, and it’s not fair.
I wish the others treated him better. He told me the rocky planets have yet to even speak to him. I understand that they might be wary of him because he took Jupiter’s place, but that was Jupiter’s doing, not X’s. Plus, X belongs here in the Solar System just as much as any of the other planets. The consequences of his return are not his fault. I just feel like if only the others took some time to talk to him and get to know him, they’d surely like him.
He’s not a bad guy, Diary.
He’s not.