Chapter Text
The display of two golden flowers choosing to make some sort of love rather than violence had left the Demon Lord without much will to continue his own violence against the Flower King.
Flowery had no idea what had happened while Thornery had laid fists, hands, and lips on him; it was a blur of anger and pain he'd not encountered from anyone other than Asgore. And certainly not from his own kind, the agony of being alive only being sensed in a way another flower could.
It had made him feel as if he were being torn apart and afraid for himself. A base biological instinct to stay alive. A sickness, a danger, a predator - all those stress signals flaring out of Thornery in a way that he likely never had anyone sense before.
Screaming in pain, with no others like him to be able to hear it.
The Demon Lord was the one that stopped it all. Flowery knew his Asgore wouldn't have cared; when Flowery had looked to him, flushed and feeling overly heavy at his stamen from being touched so much, he'd completely looked away. The Demon Lord was the one yelling at his commander to stop embarrassing him with improper lustful behaviour - he was a warrior, for fuck sake.
Thornery had looked pretty sour about it. Flowery just smiled, dazed and happy they were getting along again. What else did he have but a brief time and a body that let him enjoy being kissed back? Well, these weren't the best circumstances, but Thornery's sadness that stung through his filaments and body had abated somewhat.
The tense, long silence and the flushed, upset glare of the Demon Lord meant nothing. He told them all to get out, and if any of their lot stepped foot into his domain again, they would be separated from all their limbs by his own hands.
And that was before Flowery had finally untangled himself from the pile of limbs and floral-scented exertion, fresh sap and bruised flesh marking both their bodies. Thornery was up and off immediately, having walked away from Flowery as if he weren't there. Like both Flowerys hadn't melted into each other, for a few precious moments where the rejection, the betrayal, the pain and the fear of failure didn't exist.
He watched Thornery kneel to the Demon Lord, hanging his head in apology as his Asgore chided him further. Pausing the reprimand, the Lord roared towards the Flower King to get the fuck out of his castle, or he'd start on his threats of bodily separation now instead.
Flowery had to shake off the daze; nothing gold could stay, after all. He gave his own group a wave, flipping himself up in a dramatic rainbow of movement, another forward half flip onto his feet. His jacket was on his shoulder and his hair was quickly brushed through with a hand, perfectly tousled. Sticky chunks of sap from a cut on his eyebrow (Thornery's sharp, spiked knuckled gloves had given him a kiss, too) stuck on his soft petal bangs, making them clump on one side of his forehead.
He was at his companion's side, quick as a dandelion puff on the wind. Blue's fingers were gentle as he brushed Flowery's wounded face, the flesh knitting back perfectly, plush and sparkling. Freshly watered under the healing rain spell, he hugged both his flower buddies close.
His fingers dug into Yellow and Blue's firm, real backs. The patterned stitching of Yellow's jacket and the delicate smooth fabric of Blue's leotard felt more real to him then, more than anything so far. They could feel how tense he was. They absolutely could sense his stress, floating chemical signals from his damaged filaments almost impossible to miss with their plant senses. He didn't want to lean on anyone else, not after the mess he caused… but he needed his friends.
Flowery turned to meet the Demon Lord's harsh gaze. He stood between his friends, between the two Asgores, and gave an overly dramatic bow. "No need to banish us, My Liege. We've been wanting to make like a tree and leaf the entire time. Thanks muchlys! Don't hurt Thornery."
"Wouldn't be right to hurt Flow'ry's, uhm, special —" Yellow started, but Blue gently put a hand over his cowboy companion's to hush him. It was obvious something very awkward and possibly inflammatory would come out.
Thornery, however, did have something to say, and he would absolutely say whatever he liked. His white, blazing eyes narrowed before he cracked into a wide, furious grin, too angry and fed up to hold back at all any more.
"Only your (Loser!) leader can say weird shit, huh? Be rude and insert himself where he shouldn't be, and it's all roses. Might wanna pick a new leader who isn't such a selfish prickle. Don't talk to my Lord like that, compost. Get out."
That was how Thornery described it, boldly inserting himself into the conversation - a Flowery move. Flowery let it happen, because Thornery had every right to be angry.
"It's his fault this happened. Take that back to all your little fronds, losers. And make sure to tell them I'm the one who made him give up. You heard him (Beg for mercy!) (Hahahaha!!!)"
Flowery's smiling mask remains placid and impassive as always, unable to be broken by something like this. While he lived, he had a chance. And now Asgore might see it that way, too.
But it did sting, the thorns of his words twisting around his heart and hurting just enough. Just persistently, irritatingly enough. He really failed at this one.
As they descended downward, Thornery's CruelGrin stayed on. As the flowers he'd graciously conjured for them faded in their wake, Flowery looked back at him one last time.
Thornery looked pained, for just a moment; his gaze drifted upward, back towards the Castle where the Fountain lay. Flowery kept watching him, following where his gaze went, before Thornery disappeared from sight.
—
Flowery, Yellow and Blue escorted Asgore out the way they'd come. It felt strange to simply walk away instead of needing to sneak. What it really did was make Flowery feel crushing guilt and shame over having brought his two eldest companions with him, putting them in harm's way.
But moreover, the strained silence between them all wasn't about Asgore's rescue or Flowery's dereliction of leadership duties. No, three pairs of eyes were on the back of his head for a very different reason.
"Well, thank you, again, for that," Asgore tried, for the third time, to clear the air. The first was after the Demon King had sent him on his way, banished from the area along with Yellow and Blue. The second had been once the group had taken a conjured flower pathway down - and not from Flowery, but one given by the resident Second in Command.
That had been more awkward. The sharp glare from Thornery, even as he obeyed the Demon King's command to get them out of his castle, had haunted them down until Flowery watched him leave. The group had travelled down the magical path of spider lilies and golden petals in an elegant arrangement. Each step could have been dangerous, but Flowery had known his other would not do something that cruel. He'd already made his point - and he was making a further point he was nothing like Flowery.
Only then was the awkward subject dragged out. Asgore opened the gate, and Blue had the integrity to address it; perhaps it was best for Blue to have done so, as the scene had involved the matter of love (and slight comedy). Flowery had no better person to discuss it with.
"Flowery, dear, I don't want to bring this up in front of anyone who wasn't there, but…"
"Hmm? Go ahead, my frond." Flowery, nonchalant and irritatingly chipper as always, inclined his head back towards his companions. He had been staying a step ahead of everyone, making sure his back was to them; he didn't want them to lose sight of him again. After he'd run off with Asgore, it only felt right to be watched.
And absolutely not because he had felt strange about the night's events thus far. Too many things at once, and most of them sour and painful.
"Flow'ry, you okay, ol' bud?" Yellow wasn't kindness, but it wouldn't do to let his friend feel unhappy. There was no justice in that. "I, uh, dunno if you won there, but you fought hard."
"Oh, haha, no, it's fern! All peachy! This was a mistake, and my fault. (Sorry, guys.) But what matters is Asgore!"
Flowery suddenly began to float and turned backwards with a flourish, while continuing to move forward. The prickling underbrush of the woods wouldn't trip him that way. It wouldn't exhaust him too much, and it was just for a moment.
"Did you have fun meeting a different kind of you, oldbuddy?"
"I… well, it's… you made the effort to come save me, after all that, and it was fine at first, but…" Asgore tried to word it the best way he could. He was so gentle. He didn't want to hurt with words, clumsy and fumbling his way around being direct.
"I liked meeting another (Flowery!) Another gold just like me, Asgore's best friend. I'm glad our relationship is so good, my BestPal. Haha!"
The other flowers had seen the Demon Lord. They'd seen Thornery. Everyone had seen the two entities known as Flowery literally punching each other in the open courtyard, one single heat lamp sun above in the gloaming growing dark. They'd all heard Thornery yelling.
"Flowery. Please don't do anything rash like that again." Blue cut through the nonsense. "The running away from us was bad enough, but you showing up that worn out and then… that."
"This is supposed to be a dream, right?" Asgore asked bluntly. All flower eyes were on him, their beloved caretaker. Whatever he said was what mattered. "It's… been an adventure, for sure. But I think it's become more like the kind I have that I wake up from. Closer to a nightmare. It's getting a bit… much. And I'm not finding out anything I wanted to, in the end."
Asgore grumbled, face turning hard and serious. Of course. It didn't matter about the fun stuff; Flowery had been pushed aside the moment Asgore might have had a real collaborator.
Flowery's face fell. He hadn't thought he could make a face like that: afraid. He'd not practiced anything like that because he should not be showing anger, upset or fear in Asgore's perfect world, or as whatever role he needed to take to make Asgore happy. His vines and petals twisted inside, the butterflies rushed around with anxiety in his chest. Things he didn't like being able to feel, and never wanted to. It should have never been like this.
"I thought maybe we could all be friends. He… he said he wanted a friend. Didn't you hear him? Or was that cry for help… only for me?" Water beaded at the back of his neck. He could feel his arms and cheeks being scratched by low-hanging branches. He wasn't paying attention to what was ahead, or where they were going.
Just Asgore in his vision, Yellow and Blue flanking. Witnesses to what a stupid, worthless little flower he really was. The moment he stopped being able to explore the Fountains gifts, he'd failed over and over. He'd just made everything worse, for everyone.
What kind of a leader was he? What kind of friend, to rush into danger like that? Idiot.
He had been a fool to think Asgore would never address the situation. That he would just let it slide. It was fine if Flowery was pushed aside and rejected, because he and his happiness didn't matter. It never had, from the moment his body formed around his delicate roots.
"I'm sorry. We'll be back in our garden soon, and we can set down some real roots. It'll be fun! Let's not let another world's issues take us down."
"That's true. It's, ah, a bit shocking to see… is this normal for Fountains? I can't imagine so. Nothing either of us ever found had —"
"It's not. It was just supposed to be us and you. Nothing else. Just us, your New Family!, and your happiness. Your PerfectWorld."
Flowery's shoulders had set in a firm line. Now he could set things right. The way things should have been.
"Let's have some quality time with (The Boys)! Haha, almost to the border! What a crazy adventure, right? Thanks for being my wingbuddies, guys. You're the Best. My special two."
Blue didn't look like he would be entertaining this further, but Yellow's velvet soft cow ears were flat against the sides of his head. Seeing him in distress made Blue have to say something.
"Leave Asgore to us. I think you need a moment to do your apologies to everyone for running off."
"Of course! I took Gorey away from everyone so crazy style, it's just not good. Not a good leader thing to do. But! You'll take my rainbow path when we're back, right? It'll be so easy that way to get back to the Castle."
As it grew ever closer, Flowery had felt the Fountain's magic fill him back up. His strength and his command over the world returned. The shadows and the twilight disappeared as the warmth of seven heat lamp suns perked up his petals and warmed his flesh.
He could fix his mistakes. It was his chance, and the Lightners had likely been imprisoned or banished back to the Light World, if all had gone according to plant.
"Gorey, is that okay with you, oldbuddy?"
"Flowery, it's been a long… afternoon. Whatever makes things easier."
He smiled, but it was genuine. The difference was he looked relieved, rather than like the expression had been etched onto his face. Something that had come easily from the delicate heart of his weak body, instead of an equipped smile and practice of a man who did not truly exist.