Work Text:
The most Dia remembers of being born is pressure. Overwhelming weight, and the faint sensation of waking up, before they cracked through the edge of the earth. It is only when they wake up, sitting in classes with another red gem, that they begin to form words for what came before.
None of it is quite right. But it is the closest Diacan manage to what was.
The most Dia remembers of the year they were born is the rarity of two gems surviving the fall it took to be found.
Dia sits with Cinnabar, far removed from the rest of the gems, at the instruction of Sensei. Lights reflect through the room when gems come to ogle through open doors, hanging outside windows with swords. It interrupts Adamant's instruction, but it is not without worth. It teaches Dia what it means for them to have been born.
“Wow, another Diamond!”
“Yellow will be so glad to see them.”
“Especially after how long it's been since Pink was taken.”
The chatter of outside gems fades as Dia focuses on learning to move their mouth. Learning how to walk. Learning what they're all supposed to be. The gems outside simply remind Dia of how quickly they must grow. The fortunate thing is that Cinnabar is just as smart. They don't know what motivates Cinnabar, but Dia does know – they like that.
“Cinnabar, did you want to look over the battle records with me today?”
Their sibling is not a twin. But they were born the same year – the first face like theirs Dia ever truly knew. So in some ways, how Cinnabar frowns feels like a form of home. How Cinnabar turns, like they mean to walk away. But they won't. Dia is strong and wears gloves past their elbows. They've learned from many attempts of picking up unwilling family.
Instead, Cinnabar says, “I already have.”
“Without me?”
Dia glitters so bright that Cinnabar squints just to see. They've seen Cinnabar's room. Heard about the rumors. But the two of them had to fight. That was all that mattered in a life like this.
So Dia goes on, “You'll get a better insight out of it with me at your side!”
“You talk like you want to be partners,” Cinnabar mutters.
“Is that a bad thing?”
Cinnabar doesn't answer. Instead, they sit in the grass and Dia takes their place beside them. They're hardly 100 years old. The two of them together. Learning is hard. Being useful is hard. The fact that a hammer will not break Dia's fingers does not help their natural born clumsiness. But Cinnabar is smart. They're weak, and sometimes, Dia has inadvertently broken off arms in well-meant hugs. Yet despite that, they've survived. Despite that, they're being trained to fight, too.
“Why would you be my partner?” Cinnabar says, more than asking.
Dia could explain everything. They're smiling. They know that much. They would think that Cinnabar should be able to see that. Or how much it meant. Before they have the chance to speak, Cinnabar goes on.
“I mean,” they say, “Wasn't Bort born recently?”
“What?”
“They're another diamond,” Cinnabar says. “As hard as you. They won't break when you touch them. Just like Yellow.” The worst part is the fact that Cinnabar is smiling. “You could teach them everything you know.”
“I don't know anything,” Dia says.
“...Neither do I,” Cinnabar says. “You wanted to look over those records. Didn't you.”
When Cinnabar moves to the night watch. Dia doesn't know how to speak.
When Sensei calls, and gives a formal introduction to Bort – Dia doesn't have options.
It takes years for Dia to realize the meaning behind how they are seen in comparison to Cinnabar.
In fact. What it takes is Bort.
–
“How are you taking to Lapis?”
It's the two of them. Dia sits outside Cinnabar's room, careful not to intrude on the awkward heaves of mercury that settle inside. When Cinnabar can speak, they come to the entrance, but they do not sit.
“Lapis Lazuli is demanding,” Cinnabar says.
“Really?” Dia taps their cheek, a sweet ring coming with each movement. “I thought they were a little strange, but rather nice. I guess they're hard to really talk to, though. Lapis seems so busy.”
Cinnabar is often hard to read. Moreso with their face shadowed by the light behind. “They don't explain much. Everything is need-to-know for them.” They laugh. It's more like a cough. “They expect people to act according to how they speak.”
“Oh,” Dia says.
“I'm sorry,” Cinnabar mutters. “That's too negative.”
“No!” Dia's holding their hand before they can think. After how long ago they removed their gloves. “I admire that about you. I'd rather you be negative to me than hide how you think!”
Cinnabar could say many things, and Dia can see it, for once. They settle on, “Whatever.”
Dia goes out the next day smiling too wide for their own good.
Agreeing to help out the librarians with a small task. Take them out with a proper fighter to gain more information on how sunspots form. Lapis, with their empty hands, and Ghost Quartz behind them, with a pad of paper for what they don't remember like Lapis does. And Cinnabar. Trailing farther away, but not so far from Dia.
“You shouldn't have to escort us like this,” Cinnabar mutters.
“You shouldn't have to be a bodyguard when you've been assigned a job of your own,” Dia hums. “I'd rather be protecting you than anyone else.”
Maybe it's the wrong thing to say.
Maybe it's that which leads Dia to a silly folly, with too many gems at one spot. Lapis is happy about the sunspot, if nothing else. When it forms, everything is quiet but for Lapis' quiet request for Quartz to sketch its appearance.
The first barrage is quick, and Dia can reflect it without much trouble. It's a joy to tell the rest to stand back. To tell Cinnabar to watch their back. Dia is strong, but something in them still breaks under pressure. It takes a hundred arrows before there is a jagged hole in Dia's torso, where an arm could have once stood. Fractures spread up into their neck, but they stay upright. Swinging their arm like it's a party. Dia can't stop smiling.
Everyone's fighting.
It's so huge.
And there's Cinnabar, so terribly upset about everyone they can't help. Mercury that makes gems jump away more than the Moon People. It doesn't reach in time.
But Dia thinks that's a little better of an end to see with their own eyes.
–
“You've been paired with Yellow Diamond,” Cinnabar says.
“I'm so surprised!” Dia's been running wildly with their new sword since Adamant pulled them aside. “Yellow even requested me! I've always wanted the chance to see what their patrols are like.”
Cinnabar stares at walls, and ceilings, and faintly moving grass, like it could give an answer. Dia doesn't know what they see. For all their weaknesses, Cinnabar has earned what they excel in. Here, it should be insight. Kindness. That's what they're waiting for.
“That's good,” is all Cinnabar chooses. “Good luck.”
The patrol with Yellow Diamond goes into marshes. Further than any other walk around the school. They explain the use – how rare it is, but the documented cases of sunspots being set outside of the school's vision for sneak attacks.
“It's been a few centuries since then,” Yellow says. “I think the last time that happened, I lost Topaz.”
Dia doesn't know anyone Yellow talks about. They smile, and nod, and frown when the moment calls for it. It's a blessing to work with Yellow. The problem is Dia was not equipped for the history. Years of libraries could not prepare them for first-hand stories.
“It's so sad,” Dia finally says. It's shallow as their hair.
“Yes,” Yellow says. “...It is. But I shouldn't dwell.” The smile Yellow wears feels like the look Cinnabar gives when they're done talking. The kind that lets Dia know they have lost the battle. “We should finish patrol before it gets too late.”
When Dia returns, Cinnabar is still up. They're trying a new job today. Staying up and working on broken swords while Obsidian rests. Dia likes that. Dia thinks its great. Dia wants to beg Cinnabar to stay and keep trying and doing things.
Dia knows Cinnabar has left nine other jobs, and this is liable to be the 10th, because this is someone else's job. And it is not Cinnabar's place. That's what their expression says.
The worst part is that they fix the chips in Dia's sword without a word. They sit and watch Cinnabar work until they can no longer stay conscious. When Dia wakes up the next morning, it's Obsidian rubbing their head with a gentle welcome and a quick “Get Out.”
Dia's sword is as good as it ever is.
“There don't tend to be many diamonds that make it through,” Yellow says. “Rutile once tossed a different one on me after I lost a leg.” They laugh. “Maybe that's the reason for my poor memory.”
Dia laughs along. They consider that too, sometimes. Being pieces for another gem's body due to simple bad luck. It's hard to say whether they mind or not.
They're not experienced enough yet to back up Yellow Diamond.
When the rest of the gems come out to rescue, half of Yellow is already gone, and Dia has lost fingers and legs in the attempt. They are sharp to the touch. Only Adamant is strong enough to carry them back without Dia's broken limbs slicing through and causing more damage.
The only pieces available to replace what Dia has lost are gold in the light.
Sometimes, Dia thinks they would not mind being parts of someone else's replacement. If it meant there was any use. But diamond can only be attached to other diamonds. Other days, they'd rather their mistakes not be someone else's gain.
–
Being a diamond means many things. Being strong. Too hard to break. Fast and ancient. Outliving. Remembering. Diamonds survive what other gems do not. Diamonds push through because other gems sacrifice when they shouldn't have to. Yellow Diamond has taught Dia that a thousand times over the years, in the one life they will ever have. The only one that keeps happening.
It comes down to one simple fact. Being a diamond means have to live to see who replaces you.
–
As much as Dia wishes. Not even they are capable of imagining a time when they could have convinced Cinnabar to partner with them. No matter how right it might have been. No matter the nagging feeling that they could have done something.
After seeing people fall at Yellow's side, Dia can only imagine what would happen to Cinnbar. For their sake. It was better this way.
“Why are you thinking,” Bort says. Never asking.
It's not about what Dia is thinking. It is the fact that they are wasting time on fantasies at all, and it means they can laugh at Bort for once.
“Are you going to say it's bad form for a diamond to daydream?”
“We're on patrol,” Bort says. “If we diamonds cannot control the field, everyone out here will suffer.”
“I know,” Dia says. “I know.”
There's nothing Dia can teach Bort. That was a weakness on Cinnabar's part. But they couldn't have seen that. They had a bad tendency to imagine everyone else's futures would turn out for the best. Some silly little thing called hope.
Bort is better at fighting than Dia ever was. Ever will be.
It means none of the gems look to Dia as the new diamond lead anymore. That everyone knows where Dia stands, and how little all these problems matter. It's a joke. It's funny almost.
The only weakness Dia has ever pulled out of Bort is the fact that they cannot see Dia's true feelings.
Maybe that's what keeps them together for so long.
Phos leaves with Bort days after spring comes. Phos is sweet, and sad, but it is strange to see them so strong. So changed. It makes Dia's face slip, to hear Phos off-handedly complain, to act as though Bort's choice is the wrong one. After all. To put down Bort is to put down Dia, from where they stand. Bort's undefeatable, but Dia stands close. They like to think as much at least. It takes Phos to realize that, too.
“Are you unhappy with Phos,” Yellow asks, when Dia comes to their room, good enough to be a partner after so long.
“Oh no,” Dia says.
The terribly wonderful part is that. They mean it.