crackplot.

[herfourthorns]

*a flower-pot, overturned where it had been left outside at the rose's request, spilling soil and one delicate little foot that flows into a leg and the figure of a girl, lain out in the sun asleep with only her long red hair to cover her -- like a sleeping princess, the blind and enchanted innocent, but as she wakes she can only become aware that

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[false_kyllikki]

Kyllikki has been walking the edges of the mansion's grounds today, teaching herself not to dread the strange forests and the strangely hot sunlight--smiling on the gardens outside of the cottages, until she reaches Percy's cottage, and sees the girl sprawled upon the ground-- "Oh! Are you not well? Are you hurt?" she asks, scurrying to kneel at her side.

[false_kyllikki]

"Whose hair I may braid, and whose gowns please me ... who might dance with me, even," she suggests, then hastens to add "If you wished--!"

[herfourthorns]

"And you'd be friends with an ugly, ungainly thing like me?"

[false_kyllikki]

Truthfully, earnestly, Kyllikki answers, "You are one of the most beautiful maidens I have ever seen, even if you are not a flower." Leviathan is more beautiful, she thinks, but this is not the time to bring that up.

[herfourthorns]

"You needn't lie. I'm so ... pale and misshapen, and my petals are so strained and thin-looking .."

[false_kyllikki]

Kyllikki presses a soft kiss to her cheek. "You are beautiful," she breathes, reverent, breathless at her own daring, terrified that the Rose will be angry with her for kissing her when they've only just met--

[herfourthorns]

But it's one thing, to be told one is beautiful when one is waiting for it, encouraging, and another to be told when one doubts and denies it -- it is precisely what she needs to be hear, precisely the way to comfort her, and she's never been kissed before. Those pale cheeks begin to blush ...

[false_kyllikki]

She blushes, as well, touching the Rose's cheek. "You are less pale, flower," she says softly.

[herfourthorns]

"Oh!" She touches her cheek, and Kyllikki's hand on it, in surprise.

[false_kyllikki]

Kyllikki pulls her hand away, flushing. "You may wear my gown, and I will wear my shift until we reach the mansion ..."

[herfourthorns]

With a laugh -- how strange a laugh feels out of lips -- "I never asked, how you people get into those silly things -- I thought they were attached."

[false_kyllikki]

"I can show you," she answers, glad to be helpful even if it means walking about in her underclothes--she undoes the buttons on her gown and slides it down over her shoulders and hips, and then holds it up for the Rose to step into. "Your ... your roots go through here," offers Kyllikki.

[herfourthorns]

Ah -- she holds out one of her little feet, looking wary of it.

[false_kyllikki]

Realizing for the first time that perhaps the Rose doesn't know how to stand, Kyllikki lays the dress down on the grass and offers her hands. "Take my hands, flower, and I will help you to rise."

[herfourthorns]

Her fingers tentatively brush along Kyllikki's palms, fumbling for them, like fluttering moths.

[false_kyllikki]

But Kyllikki was a working queen, when she was a queen; her hands were once smooth, soft as flower petals, but now they are sure and strong as they close on the Rose's, and pull gently.