thread the needle [Alphonse x Astrid | Blitz]

The girl gives me a price that slaps me in the face. A hundred?! Jacquard gave me eighty, and even then I'd been hoping to save a bit of that cash to treat myself (What, can't a kid spoil himself every now and then?). I stand dumbstruck for only a moment as the shock of the high price washes over me. I recover as the girl launches into her sales pitch, talking about the alpaca yarn and all of its benefits. I try and look interested but I already have all the information about alpaca wool uses locked in my mind with the others, comes with the territory of trying to be the top student in class. Instead my mind is already turned to the art of the barter.

As she wraps up her pitch I launch into the act. If the girl had seen schmuck written across my face, this was my one shot at showing the girl I meant business. It might surprise you to know that not all of my business dealings involve a five-finger discount. Jacquard has done well to teach me some of the more… legitimate practices. The art of the barter had been lesson number one.

I open the dance with a compliment. "I can see you're right about that, the quality is incredible." I then feign a sigh of disappointment. "The price, however, seems a little bit higher than I was expecting. I thought I saw another vendor at the other end of the market with their alpaca line selling at around fifty-five a ream…" I trail off. There is no other vendor, no mysterious fabrics at such a low price. I don't actually expect her to cave to that price, either, or else she's a fool and I've made off like a bandit. It's merely an opening in the dance, for her to pick up and take the lead once more.

I had tried to start up a bartering dance with the girl, opening her up for the waltz of back and forth until we reach a middle ground with a number that fell nicely in the range of the money burning a hole through my pocket. But it seems like this girl has eyes that can see right through me, and she rejects my waltz for a tango of her own. It's clear as day she didn't buy my shit about the other vendor, so instead of erasing the schmuck from my forehead, I only managed to give it a nice, bold underline.

I brace myself for the blow of being turned away with grumbles of time wasted. Only they don't come. The girl still seems to be willing to entertain me as a customer. Tells me all about her family's craft being traced back to days before Panem. Damn, if she's not lying then that's some old family tradition going on. See, it's this kind of stuff that makes me a little bit bummed out that I don't really have a family of my own to pass on some kind of ancient family stories to me. Tie me to something beyond this horrible world we're stuck in. Maybe I'll settle on actually paying attention to Jacquard one of these times the old man goes on about French, just to get the gist of what that's like.

The girl asks me if I'm looking for fast fashion or something of actual good quality. My bluff has been called out; this girl's a pro. Now I'm all torn about what I should do. Now that I've seen the glorious fabric she's got on sale I know it's exactly what I need to boost myself into the minds of the head honchos at the Academy. Just… that price! I think maybe she'd settle on eighty if I offered it, but it's so rare I get to have any money to spend for some of the little things that I'm struggling something real with the idea of spending it all on this one thing.

Something occurs to me though. That bit about her family's craft being older than Panem. About them holding onto that craft even now when the world has changed into something cruel to reminders of times that existed before the Capitol and its glory. I start to wonder whether this girl, too, sees how fucked up things are now. I wonder if she secretly is craving for something to change. Is it worth the risk to test those waters?

I take a deep breath and decide to drop the act, level with the girl a bit more. "Alright, I get your point. Look, I can't do a hundred, I don't have that kind of cash on me. But is there any way I can get it from you for less? I need it, or else everything I've worked towards could be on the line." I meet her gaze earnestly, hoping she'll meet it with mercy for the poor schmuck.

That was the ticket I needed. I can see my plea has managed to grab hold of the girl's interest. She looks me over once again, and this time I feel certain schmuck is no longer labelling my freckled face. There's a reappraisal going on, and I can tell she's trying to figure out exactly what to make of me. Something definitely had shifted between us, the dance no longer about the price of alpaca wool but instead about the potential costs of honesty. Whether or not we should trade in something more dangerous.

Her next offer is within my range, and quite a good deal in terms of money. So long as I put that more dangerous thing on the table with it. My heart starts to race on me like it's trying to break out of my chest or something. I can't tell if it's the fear of what could happen if I make this deal with the wrong person. Now it's my turn to give this girl a look over. Can I trust her with this mission I'm on? Will this girl put and end to my work before I can even get it going?

Damn it all if I'm wrong about this. But I get the feeling I'm not.

And so there I am, leaning in close and all secretive-like, spilling the plan to someone other than Jacquard for the first time. "Look, I may be an Academy boy but I swear I ain't like the others okay? I'm sure you can see as clear as I how shit things are for a lot of us here. I have a plan to try and change it all up, make it better. But doing it the right way, from the inside of it all. The Academy is supposed to be my ticket in. Your fabric… well, it's just the ticket I need to get on the radar. That's the truth, okay?"

As I finish I look back at her with my breath held tight, bracing myself to see how the girl reacts.

I hope I didn't just fuck it all up.

The girl stares at me, silent and just looking me over and processing what she just heard. For a long time. Long enough for me to start panicking a little. Like oh shit, what the hell did I just do kind of panic. Maybe telling this girl had been a mistake, maybe she's a Capitol spy placed here in the market to sniff out stupid kids with conspiratorial plans like me? I want desperately to look around for the Peacekeepers that were sure to materialize out of every nook and cranny to take me away. Itching to try and book it back to Jacquard's and tell him how fucked we are because of me. I don't know whether I'd rather die by the Peacekeeper's hands or his (alright I'll admit, the man intimidates me sometimes. He's a burly guy! Don't tell him I said that). But I don't do any running or looking away. I'm held onto this girl's line of vision like it's the only thing keeping me afloat in angry waters.

"Okay, I'm listening."

Man, the relief I felt as she said those few words was absolutely indescribable. I judged right; I could trust this girl with the plan, the secret. I could go home tonight and not have to worry about whether Jacquard will wring my neck or not. Beyond that relief though I was also very excited! Astrid (as she now introduces herself to me) seems close to my age, a few years older at the max. Much younger than the only other confidante I've had for this goal. It might be nice to be able to actually have someone to share this journey with who isn't also barking orders at me every day of my life. "Pleasure to meet you, Astrid. I'm Alphonse." Although I have a sinking worry whether she'll end up preferring Academy Boy. Are embarrassing nicknames a part of all friendships?

She throws another question at me, why I'm so sure my plan will work where others have failed before. Her question this time doesn't feel skeptical, or cautious. If anything, maybe there's a hint of eagerness. Maybe she's hoping I'll have a good answer. The truth is a demon I'm not ready to face yet. That if it fails, I will have nothing. I will succeed because I must succeed, it is all I have left.

Maybe I'll tell her, in time. For now I throw on my ruggish charm in mock cockiness, a little smile on my face. "Well Astrid, just wait until you've seen me with a needle and thread and see if that answers your question." Friends joke with each other, right?

"Ha!" Astrid spits out and I see her close back up a bit more. Fuck! I worry that I just messed this whole new friendship I'm forming up before it's even actually started! I guess I can't blame her though for throwing caution to the wind. Hell, I've already taken more risk with this secret goal of mine and Jacquard's than ever before in just letting her in on it all! Jacquard's always telling me how I'm not the wise and mature guy I like to think I am. I roll my eyes at him each time he says it. I mean, I'm fifteen already! Right now though, with the way this has turned out, I guess maybe he's got a bit of a point. Maybe.

Thankfully Astrid doesn't close the door all the way, not yet. She's still analyzing me with those eyes that feel like they can pierce down to my very core. Maybe all of that fine work she does, weaving intricate patterns in the fabrics, that has made her good at spotting the fine details of a person. Thank Ripred I'd never been as foolhardy as to try that old five-finger discount at her stall before. Fabric like that was far too nice to be turned into stolen goods.

Finally she breaks out into a smile, calling out my lack of an actual plan. "Hey!" I protest playfully, "Give me a break here, I've barely just gotten a foot into the place! Plans have to start somewhere, don't they?" Underneath the protests though I'm relieved again that she's kept the door open. I hadn't messed it all up after all.

Then Astrid gets all close and serious. She's decided I'm worth the risk that comes with some honesty of her own. She's not a rebel, she's got a family to feed. If things with my plan start to stink she's out. It's reasonable terms for someone who has other people she needs to worry about. I've got about one of those and he's the guy helping prepare me for all of this stuff. I know it's serious business so I stay serious, giving a stoic nod of acknowledgement with her terms. But there's one thing that stood out above it all.

She called me Alph. Alph. You gotta be kidding me! I can't decide if it's better or worse than Academy Boy. I guess embarrassing nicknames come with the friendship after all. I'll have to think of one for her. Ace? Strid? Hm. I'll have to think on it.

Her tone softens as she lays it out in plain terms. She wants to know if she can trust me. I wonder if her caution comes with the conspiratorial territory, or if maybe she's been burned before. And by whom.

I hold a hand over my chest and raise the other with the palm towards her. "On my honour, I'm trustworthy, okay? I want to do things the right way too. That rebel shit just causes more trouble to the district. That's why I want to try making change from within the system, you see?"

I hold my breath. Man, I really hope that she sees.