31 Days - Out of Order
This little sucker fought me for some reason.
Title: Green Grows The Rushes
Characters/Fandom: Jariel, ANCD AoA
Warnings: None
Summary: Missing someone leads to the garden sometimes.
She had always loved flowers and, throughout her childhood, had spent countless hours trailing after her older sister through the tidy gardens that came between the houses and the walls of their small, insular city. Awed, she watched as Nene wove daisies into long chains and made bundles of daffodils and created drooping sprays of gladiolas. Then she would help her bring armfuls home, rich tokens of love to deposit at their mother's feet.
It was years before she understood the shine of tears that mingled with the grateful hugs.
She stood at the outermost edges of the garden directly behind her small home and stared sightlessly at the wall before her. One hand rested against a slim tree trunk - apple, she thought distractedly. Symbol of temptation and knowledge. Basis for the best kind of pies. He loved pies. She felt an all-too-familiar dampness on her cheeks and widened her eyes in defense against the oncoming tears.
Three months, four days, and... She resisted the urge to tally hours and minutes. Even in her single-minded dedication to facts and details, she recognized the harm in such exact measurements. At least she accepted the knowledge from her family members; they told her often enough not to dwell on the minutes he spent away from her. It was hard, though, given her nature.
She inhaled deeply through her nose and closed her eyes, directing her infamous focus towards the dampness in the air and the taste of blooming spring that teased her with the wind. She could smell all sorts of flowers and thought of her mother's lonely ache. Flowers for memory, flowers for loss, flowers for innocence. Mama had finally told her a twice-removed story about the long-ago times when her mother had made daisy chains and then another about the bridal bouquets from Papa. Which explained the mix of happy and sad in her mother's pretty eyes when Nene had brought her all of those flowers. Flowers meant so much more and they spoke in an arcane language, one she feared she would never learn and yet one she never wanted to learn.
Blindly, she began walking forward. One foot in front of the other, the ball of her foot touching the soft earth first until her heel followed. It made her think of dancing and she opened her eyes abruptly to avoid her imagination calling up dances with him.
The breeze returned and she turned into it hungrily, searching for distraction. Silence hovered and she turned in a slow circle until, suddenly, she paused at a sweetness in the air. Tracing it to an unkempt tangle of branches and greenery, she stepped forward and began parting the living wall. Within moments, she had pushed through to the other side of the heavy, flickering leaves and faced glorious cones of flowers - vibrant and purple and delicate.
Lilacs.
Reaching out, she watched her slim fingers wrap around equally slim branches, white against brown. The flowers shivered at her grip. A few petals tumbled towards the ground. She touched her other hand to the buds themselves, feeling along the small, soft layers until she traced down to the supple green joining of the stems. She bit down on her lip as she pushed the stem downwards and held the branch steady with her other hand. Once, twice, three times, she wound the stalk with the flowers around the stronger branch.
She felt the tears start to slip, warm against her cheek, and her hold released abruptly as she dropped to her knees. Petals fell around her as she covered her face. The sobs long denied came all the harder for the delay.
Lilacs meant love.
Title: Green Grows The Rushes
Characters/Fandom: Jariel, ANCD AoA
Warnings: None
Summary: Missing someone leads to the garden sometimes.
She had always loved flowers and, throughout her childhood, had spent countless hours trailing after her older sister through the tidy gardens that came between the houses and the walls of their small, insular city. Awed, she watched as Nene wove daisies into long chains and made bundles of daffodils and created drooping sprays of gladiolas. Then she would help her bring armfuls home, rich tokens of love to deposit at their mother's feet.
It was years before she understood the shine of tears that mingled with the grateful hugs.
She stood at the outermost edges of the garden directly behind her small home and stared sightlessly at the wall before her. One hand rested against a slim tree trunk - apple, she thought distractedly. Symbol of temptation and knowledge. Basis for the best kind of pies. He loved pies. She felt an all-too-familiar dampness on her cheeks and widened her eyes in defense against the oncoming tears.
Three months, four days, and... She resisted the urge to tally hours and minutes. Even in her single-minded dedication to facts and details, she recognized the harm in such exact measurements. At least she accepted the knowledge from her family members; they told her often enough not to dwell on the minutes he spent away from her. It was hard, though, given her nature.
She inhaled deeply through her nose and closed her eyes, directing her infamous focus towards the dampness in the air and the taste of blooming spring that teased her with the wind. She could smell all sorts of flowers and thought of her mother's lonely ache. Flowers for memory, flowers for loss, flowers for innocence. Mama had finally told her a twice-removed story about the long-ago times when her mother had made daisy chains and then another about the bridal bouquets from Papa. Which explained the mix of happy and sad in her mother's pretty eyes when Nene had brought her all of those flowers. Flowers meant so much more and they spoke in an arcane language, one she feared she would never learn and yet one she never wanted to learn.
Blindly, she began walking forward. One foot in front of the other, the ball of her foot touching the soft earth first until her heel followed. It made her think of dancing and she opened her eyes abruptly to avoid her imagination calling up dances with him.
The breeze returned and she turned into it hungrily, searching for distraction. Silence hovered and she turned in a slow circle until, suddenly, she paused at a sweetness in the air. Tracing it to an unkempt tangle of branches and greenery, she stepped forward and began parting the living wall. Within moments, she had pushed through to the other side of the heavy, flickering leaves and faced glorious cones of flowers - vibrant and purple and delicate.
Lilacs.
Reaching out, she watched her slim fingers wrap around equally slim branches, white against brown. The flowers shivered at her grip. A few petals tumbled towards the ground. She touched her other hand to the buds themselves, feeling along the small, soft layers until she traced down to the supple green joining of the stems. She bit down on her lip as she pushed the stem downwards and held the branch steady with her other hand. Once, twice, three times, she wound the stalk with the flowers around the stronger branch.
She felt the tears start to slip, warm against her cheek, and her hold released abruptly as she dropped to her knees. Petals fell around her as she covered her face. The sobs long denied came all the harder for the delay.
Lilacs meant love.