Author's Note: Trigger warnings! Now, obviously almost everything involving Pearls involves a degree of objectification/dehumanization, but this chapter is a little more extreme in that regard. Also, warning for ableism.

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Lilac Pearl

When Pearl first emerges, no time is wasted before she is presented to her master, an elegant and high-ranking Spinel. Pearl bows and smiles; Spinel smiles back, a flash of white teeth, and beckons her to stand at her side.

Pearl performs her duties well. She walks with beauty and elegance. She adapts her form to suit her master's needs. She obeys every order, and learns to anticipate them, to provide before she is asked. She smiles and sways and dips and curtseys and flutters her eyelashes.

Spinel is very pleased by her, Pearl thinks. She does not let her out of her sight for a long time. She wants everyone to see a pearl by her side, the perfect ornament.

One day, though, Spinel attends a grand meeting, in a temple so old and magnificent that its power seems to thrum through the air, resonating, so powerful that it is nearly blinding. Only true Gems are allowed within the inner sanctum. Anything else would surely shatter under the intensity. The pearls are all left in a chamber outside while their masters continue in.

They stand in neat rows, still as statues, until the final guest disappears inside and the glow from the portal fades. And then- like a perfectly choreographed dance among the chaos, th e Pearls come to life. They break away from their perfectly ordered lines. They orbit around each other like stars, raising hands in greeting, holograms flickering into existence, low joyful murmuring.

Pearl remains stock still, too overwhelmed to move. Won't they get caught?

Her unmoving form catches the notice of a couple of other Pearls, one pink, one almost silver.

"You're new," says the pink. "Nice to meet you."

"Who do you belong to?" asks silver.

Pearl opens her mouth, tries to answer, but no sound comes out.

"Nervous," comments pink. "I understand."

"You're purple. Maybe an Amethyst?" muses silver. Again, Pearl tries to clarify, but her mouth and throat aren't working.

"No," comments another pearl passing by, this one a blue so deep she's practically black. "I saw her at the side of a Spinel."

A chorus of nods and 'ah's. And still, Spinel's Lilac Pearl cannot speak. She tries all evening, straining, trying to force a sound out of her throat or mouth, but nothing escapes. She stands there, listening, dumbfounded, horrified.

The meeting ends. The Great Gems spill out of the inner sanctum, and collect their property. Pearls take their places besides their master. Pearl stands besides her Spinel, face carefully blank, but inside, her soul is shivering.

She is defective. She is terrified. She has never had any cause to speak before; it's never been asked of her. But that could change? What if Spinel asks her a question? Wants her opinion? Needs her to recite something she's overhear, or send a message? She will fail, she will fail in her duty, let Spinel down, and she will be shattered, and it will only be what she deserves.

The fear hides within her, cycle after cycle, but the command never comes. And eventually, she learns why.

She's standing attendance at a small gathering, a collection of mostly Spinels, discussing policy implementation. The discussion wanders, however, as is want to do. Pearl does not flinch when one Spinel points at her and says, "I must say, you have trained your pearl beautifully."

"Thank you," says her own Spinel, graciously accepting the compliment.

"Perfectly polite," the complimenter continues. "She never makes a sound, never speaks."

Spinel gives a laugh like the tinkling of breaking glass. "Oh, that's not training. I had her built that way."

Something inside Pearl catches.

Through this conversation and later ones, Pearl is able to piece it together. Understand why she was made this way.

There have been rumours. Spreading fear of disobedience, rebellion, anarchy. All because of some renegade Pearl on some far off colony planet. One who stood up, went rogue, grabbed a pair of swords and now fights against the Homeworld. Some says it's all lies, even while other Gems tut about how terrible it is. There are secret holographic records. Eyewitness testimonies smuggled on illegal scrolls.

"The Renegade talks of her own accord, you see," Spinel explains, at yet another meeting. "More than talks. Makes pronouncements. Gives orders. That's the entire problem. Somewhere along the way, it became convinced that such things were allowed. As long as we never give our pearls such an opportunity, it cannot happen again."

At first, Pearl feels like she is breaking. Splintering into a million pieces.

Then, something hardens. She feels whole.

She was made to never have a voice. That, she cannot change. But she will not be silent.

She walks a little quicker down hallways, noticing the way her heels snap against the hard floor, click click click. Her vocal chords cannot make noise, but she can still fill her chest with air, then blow it all out, wooosh. On those rare occasions where she's left alone or with other pearls, she claps her hands together to show approval, clap clap clap. She can purse her lips and whistle, fiewwwwww. She can press her tongue on the roof of her house, pop pop pop.

She will be heard.