Work Text:
I know. I can see right through hi-
“Dinner’s ready, Val.” Peter said, leaning on a tree trunk nearby.
“Fine.” She didn’t move.
“Come on,” Peter was getting insistent now, pushing himself off the tree.
Valentine knew when to pick her battles. Her thoughts returned to Ender as she passed her smoldering fire on the way into the house, hanging over her as she stared across the table at his empty spot.
His chair at the table was long gone, and her parents didn’t even look to where it should have been. They had forgotten, and she knew it. She only wondered if Ender did.
“It’s Ender’s birthday.” The flow of conversation at the table paused for a moment, as if in consideration, before resuming like nothing had been said.
“We should write to him.” Again, the conversation halted, this time without continuing. Father had to acknowledge her.
He stiffened a bit under the gaze she knew was compelling, studying the table as he replied, “Perhaps not.”
Valentine was prepared to twist her words, to make her father want what she wanted him to want. Her mind twisted away from the description, but she would continue her assault. For Ender.
A tiny voice in the back of her mind had been quietly misgiving, whispering near-silent sweet poisons of doubt that suddenly became war cries as Peter cut her off.
“It’s pointless, Val. You know he never responds.”
His cutting words destroyed her self-restraint as she pushed her chair back from the table, ignoring the hideous screech against the floor, and stalked out to the backyard.
~
Peter crossed his arms and looked down at Valentine sitting near the pile of ashes that was once Ender’s birthday celebration. She pursed her lips bitterly as she effortlessly ran the calculation on the many ways the conversation might play out, the numbers spinning through her mind like a death sentence.
“Still on about Ender?” Peter was standing over her shoulder, staring with her into the glowing embers. “He probably doesn’t even remember you.”
She gritted her teeth.
“I bet he doesn’t even care,” he jabbed, “doesn’t even care that you remember him.” Val shot up and turned around, fury in her eyes. She stopped short of slapping him, knowing that would only bring misfortune.