Sometimes it stormed on Homeworld, not with rain, but with dust. Rocks and debris from the core of the planet to its rings tumbled past the windows as sirens wailed in the background, alerting everyone to stay inside.
Frightening as it was, the windows surrounding White Diamond’s statue displayed the storm in detail, every grain of sand to the stones that clattered by. They bound against the shatterproof glass as Blue curled around White’s legs.
She was built as a replica, but the Diamond herself was harder. She would have sent Blue away before she could wrap her arms around her hips or rest her face against her thigh. They wouldn’t have watched a storm together; White wouldn’t watch a storm at all.
Blue had come with questions, but with her cheek flattened against the faux silk sculpted onto White, didn’t speak them. When she shifted to look into the statue’s face, footsteps padded behind her, stopping as Blue turned.   Â
She caught a Quartz soldier, a candle in her large but careful hand, who gasped, bowing. “I’m sorry, My Diamond.” She covered the color of her uniform as she leaned over, creating a cascade of hair as wax dripped onto the floor. “I came to take refuge from the storm. I didn’t expect—”
“It’s fine. We all belong to her, don’t we?”
The wind screamed outside and rattled the windows.
“Tell me, Soldier, what do you think of her? Have you met her?”
The Quartz gasped. Blue hadn’t stopped staring at her. “She must be beautiful, My Diamond, radiant and enormous—I imagine that she’s all-knowing, resplendent, uh—” She paused to breathe. “She must be magnanimous, remaining in her chambers for so long, holding Homeworld together, and benevolent to do so, for us, My Diamond. She must do it with such grace.” The Quartz stopped to check if she had told Blue Diamond what she wanted to hear.
Blue smirked before turning back to the window. “Well,” they wouldn’t meet glances again, “She is beautiful.” Â
Instead of placing her candle at the altar, the Quartz remained in place. She shuffled her weight as the wax burned trails along her hands. Â Â
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
