Judgment
Disclaimer: All characters and locations herein are the property of Tamora Pierce except Dedicate Greenpetal. Plot and actual written words owned by me. Written for the Dancing Dove's Spring Fanfiction Exchange; written for Pokkie, who requested platonic Rosie/Crane snark.
Niva Marris, sixteen, looked up at the large stone gate as she passed through it, one hand resting on the pack that sat beside her in the cart. When she entered the round enclosure, her eyes found the tower in its center, right before her. Just then the tower's bell rang, and Niva's breath caught.
The ringing was interrupted by a sneering voice. "Consider, as you vacate the road, that someone other than yourself may have a more pressing need to pass."
Niva looked for the source of the voice. A tall, thin, boy stood near her cart, hands on hips, glaring at her down his long nose. She scowled and straightened the skirt of her white habit. "I have a need to pass," she said loftily.
"Which you will do, once these crates are safely transported away from where your ungainly vehicle might somehow damage them," replied the boy sharply.
Behind her cart, Niva noticed, stood several tired-looking men shouldering large wooden boxes and leather-belted trunks. She ought to let them pass so they could rest and get a drink of water, she knew, regardless of the boy who had insulted her. Looking back at the boy, Niva saw a victorious smile spread on his face. "We were here, first," she insisted.
The cart's driver sighed audibly. The porters said nothing.
"Look," said Niva, getting up, "just get out of the road and let us pass. We won't take so long, and then you can do whatever pleases you with your stupid boxes."
"Stupid boxes?" huffed the boy. "These crates contain all my books, a world of knowledge that you could not possibly comprehend! My dried herbs, collected over three generations from around the world! Priceless!"
"Isas."
The boy turned around to face the old lady who walked towards him, cane in hand. "Yes, Dedicate Greenpetal?" he said courteously.
The old woman shook her head. "You are a novice, now, Isas," she said gently. "You must not think of everything in terms of money. Your books and herbs are never as important as a human sister."
"But the knowledge, Dedicate Greenpetal –" protested Isas.
"Knowledge is not what you were thinking of," said the dedicate firmly. "The same knowledge you could garner from Winding Circle's books. You know we have the best library around the Pebbled Sea. You wanted them to be your books."
"The Living Circle does not condemn property ownership," argued the novice.
"No," said Greenpetal, "but with you it is more than ownership; it is an obsession. And it must stop. Let her pass."
The porters had unshouldered their burdens, and the cart's driver was fanning his face with his hat, as Niva climbed back on it.
"We were here first," she said to the dedicate, who wagged a finger at her.
"Being in the right doesn't mean you can speak unkindly," she said. "Learn to control your temper, Novice…"
"Niva," said Niva.
The old woman smiled. "Better still," she said. "Maybe I can teach you as much myself. You're the new green mage, aren't you? No green mage comes to Winding Circle or leaves it without passing under my hand."
"When will I see you?" asked Niva curiously.
"Soon," said Greenpetal. "First you should settle into your dormitory, and meet the people. You've only met a very few of the other novices, so far, and not necessarily the best."
"I'll say!"
Isas looked scandalized, and opened his mouth, ready with a retort.
"Tsk tsk," said Greenpetal disapprovingly. "You two are going to get into plenty of fights, I see."
"Only because she's an uneducated country hick's brat who can't recognize her betters!" huffed the boy.
"And he's a snotty city boy without a care for anyone but himself!" retorted the girl, her pale cheeks flushing indignantly.
The old lady ignored them. "Larn, take her to Tree's Leaf dormitory," she ordered. "Come on, boys, let me get you something to drink. It's a hot day."