(no subject)
22nd December - Poinsettia
Krory increasingly found that something was missing from his life. Sure, his routine was now filled with training, with missions and even sometimes with socialising, but still he ended up sitting on his bed sometimes, unsure of what it was that he wanted to do. It happened more and more as the Christmas period approached, as his daily routine got jumped and changed with the preparations for the festivities. It was in one of his free hours, training cancelled once again, that he found his steps carrying him to the gardens.
He had found them early on in his time here, marvelled at them. Of course as a defensive building, the castle had to be able to support itself if besieged or cut off. As such the Science Department had devoted a large amount of time to the development of hydroponic gardens deep in the underbellies of Headquarters. As specimens of engineering, they were truly fantastic, but they did not reach him as the gardens of his own castle had. The plants were regimented and ordered, grown only for sustenance. He found himself missing the sheer aesthetic pleasure of plant life, the little miracles of life that they were, the tiny differences water and food and light could make to the supporting arch of a stem or the colour of a petal.
Still, in the absence of something to do, he often found himself pacing between the tanks, examining the tanks, talking to the scientists checking nutrient levels. He tentatively befriended them, learning their names and shift habits. They welcomed him, taught him how to follow the system himself. It was after a few weeks that he voiced the uncertainty inside him to Joseph, a quietly confident gardener, and the only man he thought could understand his feelings.
“It is difficult.” Joseph agreed. Krory followed him from bath to bath, as the man gave him his opinions like the drops of vitamins they pipetted into the solutions. “Down here, one must learn to see the plants purely as a necessity. It helps, to know that you have to throw yourself into protecting them as entirely as we must. But still, you lose the sense of wonder, the sense of love and get caught up in the numbers and statistics of production.”
Krory nodded, watching the scientist's swift but careful movements, checking the tasks off as they were completed. “So, what do you think I should do?”
“The fact that you gravitated here of all places is pertinent.” Joseph smiled at his newest helper like a father. “That you chose to fill the gaps with flora is very important, it means that this,” he waved his hand to indicate the towering tanks and crops, “is the thing you are missing.”
The silence stretched on between the two men, companionable, as they shared their mutual love of their task in their devotion to their work. It was only when the task at hand was completed that Joseph spoke again: “You told me you used to grow flowers yourself.”
Krory nodded. “...Roseanne... my grandfather's garden always interested me too...” He smiled. “Whatever their thorns, I loved those flowers, and it was all they really wanted from me.”
Joseph nodded to himself again as he bent down to check on a tank of onions. “So you have an appreciation for the art, for the love it takes to grow plants until they are beautiful and healthy. I think that is what you're missing. There is a technique to growing like this, but I would hardly call it an art.” He winked at Krory, “especially not to a connoisseur, a gentleman like you.”
Krory blushed and squirmed. He had struggled to throw off the stigma of his nobility once his worker friends had discovered it. “...I don't mind the work!” He hastened to add his part to the conversation.
“I know that. Which is why I think you'll like this...” Joseph lead the way to the main workbench and scrabbled underneath it for a plant pot. He drew it out and handed it to Krory, a sad specimen wilting and drooping. The soil was bone dry to the touch, the pot far too small. Krory raised its leaves gently, looking for damage to it with an ease that came from years of practice back home.
Joseph watched him for a moment, approval in his eyes. “I haven't had time to tend to it much, otherwise it wouldn't be in this state.” As one gardener to another, Krory could sense the mettled pride in the man's voice. “It's called a poinsettia. Sort of a Christmas tradition. Normally it'd be flowering by now, but like I said...” He coughed to cover his embarrassment. “You won't get it to flower before Christmas now, but this time next year,” he shook his finger at Krory who almost jumped back in surprise, “I want to see it blooming. Big red flowers, alright?”
Krory nodded furiously, too stunned by the present for words. This was what he had missed, he reflected as he took the plant to his room, the unceasing presence of something earthly, something natural. He made a note to research it properly when he could, but for now, what it really needed was a name, that little extra bit of caring that only he could give...
“...Adeline...”
A/N: This one was a little weird for a prompt... but I think I like it. I've always loved poinsettias, they're a true symbol of Christmas for me, although I don't have much of a green thumb.