Losing my cute

After we had talked about Serge and I was able to breath like a normal person again, without the constant nagging worry of the future gnawing at my happiness, there was only a few of us left at the fires. Ayguili, Yamka, Fonce and I. The silly dweller had been removed from the glow of the fires and the laughter about her offer of a ship was gone. Everything should have settled down. I wanted to try and talk to him now, while the Ubar was here, about how I was going to become of the first fires. I seemed to be tagging along behind the others, so I brought up my task. Later I would wish I had just gone for a walk, or gotten food poisoning or bitten by a field mouse, seriously.. anything was better then.. disappointing Fonce.

"I almost finished the memory for Tug, did I tell you about it?"

"Tug? no you did not ."

"Ba'atar, before he left, asked me to make Tug something to tell him about his father. But... I am not so good at beaded calendars with precise dates and things so.. I am painting him a memory of his father."

"Painting? I did not know you were an artist Asria" He looked back at me with one of those looks, the ones that made the muscles of my belly tighten up and my spine curve. I did not often talk about my painting to people. I had told Cana and Ba'atar the first night I met them, only because we discussed the memory but shortly after that Seveya had come around and it felt wrong to call attention to my hobby when she was so loud about it being.. well, everything she is.

"It is still a calendar, sort of. Of the mans life, just in paint and not beads. I am painting the songs they sing for him."

"That is .. interesting." He responded and I was unable to hook into the emotion behind his words.

"Interesting good or.. interesting as in.. 'Oh Asria you silly girl you shouldn't do that'?

"Interesting as in .. outside the normal ideas of Yearkeeping, edging into .. Artisan."

Now I wished I had told him before, that I had not kept it hidden like it was some dirty secret. My face flushed. When I thought of Artisans I thought of potters and weavers and basket makers or bead makers.. I did not think in terms so general as painters. We do not have walls to hang framed paintings on. I am still unable to understand what an artisan who creates nothing of actual, tangible use.. is doing. I can appreciate the work and enjoy it, but it will not feed anyone, or assist them or be useful in any traditional way. And this is exactly why I did not tell very many people about my memory paintings, they are not traditionally, useful. I have a deep desire to be useful to people.

"All Tuchuck's are Artisans. Art is not about talent, it's about.. content."

"Explain to me .. what is the difference for you."

I cleared my throat. "Between talent and content?"

"Between what you are doing and what Seveya does. What makes you the Yearkeeper and her the Artisan?"

The Ubar was there, listening to all this and probably thinking of all the reasons I was not fit to sit at his fires. This seemed like a dangerous topic. I shifted slightly and fingered my braid once more. "The difference is content. Seveya will paint whatever she likes, her own ideas and thoughts and things. I paint and draw the memories of those I listen to the songs and to.. to peoples tears and paint the way they feel, as best as I can. I am not as talented as Seveya, just.. different."

Abstract.. the word I had been looking for was Abstract. I painted feelings, not pictures so much. Everything he was asking me was all tied in how useful I needed to be, how much I needed approval from him and the first fires. I knew Fonce was not, then, upset with me or even annoyed. He just wanted to know something inside of my head that wasn't properly coming out of my mouth.

"But that is what Seveya does .. her way of painting ... what she offers to people. As far as I understand .. it was her way of offering what she offered her talents to others .. a way of using her art."

"I have never heard her say any such thing... " And I was pissy about that statement, if he saw Seveya and I alike in what we did at all I would need to make sure the difference in us was more obvious, far. more. obvious.

I think he could see or at least hear the stiffness in my words because his line of questioning softened.. a tiny bit.

"I could be wrong .. it was my interpretation only and I merely wish to understand the difference" He paused here and looked at me again. "If you wish to paint .. why not be an Artisan?"

And here is where all my happy about not mating Serge and my shimmery bubbles from his teasing.. this is where he took my ice cream cone and threw it on the ground.

"All of my family were Year keepers and I am learning to understand the wheel calendars better.. Can I be a year keeper who paints? If Seveya is painting memories why doesn't she become a year keeper?"

I heard him sigh. He did not actually sigh, but I heard it just the same. "I see you do not understand my words at all .. Asria. You may do whatever it is you wish .. I simply wished to understand. I can be just fine .. not understanding"

"I am defensive, aren't I?" I asked him quietly after a pause. Everyone else had gone silent to listen to us.

He nodded. I was wearing his disappointment like a cloak.

"I am sorry Fonce" I offered quietly. I got up then and went to kneel beside him, closer to the fire. I put my hand on his arm. "I am a year keeper because Trayu was a year keeper. I want to learn to be a better one so he will be proud of me." I pressed my fingers into his forearm. "The idea that I should or even could be anything else makes me all.. uncomfortable."

Wrong answer. So very, very wrong. His black eyes snapped to mine but the glimmer that I normally saw him hold for me was gone. Everything there was dark and unfriendly like black fingers of ink were going to dart out from those eyes and ...hurt me. My hand on his arm lifted and I drew in a thick breath.

"If you have no other reason to be a Yearkeeper than you dead mate was one ..." His jaw twitched and I looked at him, my mind in a swirl of ..what the fuck?

"Why is that bad?"

"Asria .. just forget I said anything at all." And he left me there. I could see the line of his back was rigid and tense. I could see it in his arms and the way he held his fingers. He was out of earshot before I found my voice enough to say. "No."

Fonce the Tuchuck is not an easy man to know, nor to live with. But he has been easy on me, he has gone out of his way for me. This was the first time he lad left me unsure, dizzy with thought and filled with regret. I stayed there by the fire for a long moment, watching the place he had disappeared. I had a lot to think about now.. Not the least of which being putting a bonified Asria smile back on that mans face.