Work Text:
When Seivarden Vendaai deferred to the foreigner, Skaaiat was surprised for a moment, and embarrassed at her mistake. She had assumed that the foreigner was a convenient traveling companion, and that the servant with them was Seivarden's. Her mistake was obvious from Breq Ghaiad's tone and words and Seivarden's body language. Their servant sat quietly, eyes downcast. Oddly she was wearing gloves, while Seivarden was not. Neither was Honored Ghaiad, but that was not unexpected.
"You're a very long way from home," Skaaiat said to Breq.
"I've been traveling a long time." Breq was smiling, but there was something tense about it. Skaaiat's curiosity roused further. She maintained a pleasant smile.
"Looking for something? Avoiding something? Just like to travel?"
The foreigner's smile slipped. "I suppose I like to travel," she said, guardedly.
Skaaiat was deeply curious now, almost more curious about this stranger than about Seivarden.
Breq looked at her sleeve, and suddenly the meeting was less fun.
Skaaiat looked at Seivarden. Still staring down at her bare hands, but her eyes occasionally flickered sideways.
Seivarden was irritating, but in an entertaining way, and she was clearly in trouble. Breq, who was clearly well off if she could afford a servant, seemed to have been providing for her, and Skaaiat wondered again what their relationship was. From the way Seivarden was stealing glances at her, Skaaiat thought she knew how it was on that side, at least. It did not reassure her.
These two were an interesting mystery, and Skaaiat tried her best to investigate every mystery that came onto her station, just in case it led to an advantage to be used when the inevitable happened, but, it seemed, she cared beyond that, and she wasn't sure why, but she had grown accustomed to indulging her emotions.
She did her best for them, and watched Seivarden go into the palace without Breq's servant, who stayed with her employer. She questioned Breq about her intentions, and Breq went stiff and angry. And, Skaaiat couldn't help but notice, kept glancing at Skaaiat's sleeve. At the pin there. She said nothing, but that didn't stop Skaaiat's sudden wave of shame. She was projecting onto her visitors' relationship. She did that too often. "I think maybe I'm not being fair to you, Breq Ghaiad."
The anger in Breq's face changed into something else. She took a slow step backward, until her shoulder bumped against her servant's shoulder. It was such an odd move that Skaaiat looked at the servant to gauge her reaction. The servant was standing extremely still, almost ancillary blank.
Neither of them said anything.
Seivarden's voice rang out. "That didn't take long!" She came up to them, and looked at Breq- and at the servant, both of them- and said, "You both need to sit down." And to Skaaiat, "Breq's leg is bothering her again."
Both, Skaaiat thought, she said both, but instead she said courteously, "Forgive me for keeping you standing here, then. I've been quite rude, honored."
"Of course," Breq said, but she was still angry.
She recommended lodgings that would accommodate three people, even though Seivarden seemed happy to go to her assigned basic sleeping area.
Then she went back to her office, where Daos took one look at her and made her tea without her asking.
She woke up in the middle of the night, sat bolt upright, and hissed, "Fuck," to herself. "Oh Amaat."
There were five hours before it would be civilized to call upon an acquaintance. Skaaiat carefully dressed herself, sat on a cushion, opened up her paperwork, and stared blankly at it for a very long time.
There was only one pin she wanted to wear, but it was important to maintain appearances. Fortunately one of the privileges of her office was the ability to fuck off occasionally and leave Daos to deal with any emergencies. Skaaiat would have to make it up to her later. But she couldn't think about that right now.
She was afraid she would find the occupants of the small room out, but the door was answered by the servant Skaaiat had seen the previous day.
The face was entirely familiar, now that Skaaiat knew what she was looking at. She'd let her hair grow out, Skaaiat thought inanely, it looked nice. She did seem older. The persistent good nature that Skaaiat had known in Ors was gone.
She was gazing straight at Skaaiat in a most unservantlike manner. Her eyes were dark and lovely. Skaaiat had forgotten that, despite having a few pictures to look at.
"Honored Breq is busy at the moment," she said. Her voice tight, clipped. Her accent had changed, but only slightly.
"That's all right," Skaaiat said. "Could you tell her I wish to apologize for my rudeness and thoughtlessness yesterday, and that I hope this small gift makes up for it?"
She held out a box of tea, clearly labelled. Fifteen years ago a Seven Issa had poured it into two bowls, and Awn had inhaled, and sipped, and her expression of bliss had made Skaaiat's heart flutter. "Oh, this is my favorite one," she said. "Not that the others weren't wonderful-"
"Keep the box," Skaaiat had said, and authoritatively overruled Awn's protests.
Now it was the only thing she could think of, and she was desperately afraid that it wouldn't be enough.
Slowly, Awn reached out and took the box.
Their gloved fingers brushed, and Skaaiat's hands stilled, and both of them stood there as the moment extended, and Skaaiat could hardly breathe.
Then Awn's hands were closing around the box, and she was breaking contact, she was stepping back. But she was looking at Skaaiat, her face unreadable.
"Honored Breq is quite fond of this kind," she said. "However did you know?"
"I didn't," Skaaiat said. "It only occurred to me last night that she might appreciate it. An old friend of mine liked it, once. That was a long time ago, but I hope my friend still likes it."
Awn swallowed. "I'm sure she does," she said, softer than before. Hope bloomed in Skaaiat's heart.
It must have galled Awn, Skaaiat thought, to play the role of servant. But it had worked. Skaaiat had not looked at her twice. Anaander Mianaai would not either. If only it didn't come at the cost of Skaaiat's honor.
"I understand if Honored Breq no longer wishes my company after my rudeness. But let her know that if there is anything else I can do, she has only to let me know."
"I cannot say if she will or not," Awn said. "But I will relay the message."
"I will live in hope," Skaaiat said. She bowed. "Thank you for your time."
Awn nodded. The door slid closed.
She was not conscious of what happened next, but she found herself in her office, Daos handing her tea and peering at her worriedly. "Inspector Supervisor? Are you all right?"
"Perfectly fine," she said. "Daos, I hate to ask, but could you take over business for the rest of the day? I have some social affairs I really need to set in order."
"Of course," Daos said. Skaaiat patted her hand, and Daos smiled, though she still looked worried. Skaaiat really would have to make it up to her. Perhaps real flowers and a bath might be involved.
For now she went into the back room of her office and pulled up the list she'd been compiling for the last five years. It was three lists, actually; those she was sure of, those she knew would go to the enemy, and those who might fall either way. Visits with those on the last list were in order. Particularly the head of station security. It would be risky, to move so fast, but Skaaiat would bet that the Lord of the Radch was going to be rather focused on Seivarden Vendaai for a while. She would also guess that before long, subterfuge would no longer matter. Things were coming to a head. And this time Skaaiat would be prepared. This time she would act.
She was afraid, but also lightheaded with painful joy. Love, she thought. This is what love is. Love come back from the dead.
It was time to make a difference.