Not a Secret Garden

Twelve steps to the left from my bed, more 27 steps up the dark spiral staircase to finally open the heavy wood door. That’s the path I learned to follow even with my eyes closed. Behind that door, away from all the fighting and war, there’s a special place I like to call my refuge.

The only place I can go on the sleepless nights when the stress is piling on my shoulders from the summoning rituals and the strategies discussed and I can’t simply stop my thoughts from running inside my head. Being close to the soil I prepared, tending to the plants I cared since I arrived at this castle is the only thing that can put my mind at ease on nights like those.

I still can remember when it all started: curious about where that not so secret passage on my own room led, I asked to Alphonse to escort and help me to open the door that seemed stuck. The moment it finally gave in to our efforts, the view wasn’t what we were really expecting. There were dirt, weeds and mold everywhere, besides the tools and pottery scattered over the whole place which seemed to be a well loved garden by someone from a long time ago.

Thanking him for his time and help, I dismissed the young prince and started cleaning, pruning and organizing. Not an easy or fast task, but I felt connected to the place in a way I still don’t understand. That was when they started arriving from all over the worlds.

The first one was Chrom, after chatting for a while, he gave me some peppermints found in one of his walks in the woods near the castle. That was a good herb to have in the winter, he said. Although it was not a very good idea to invite him upstairs, as clumsy as only he can be, some pots ended broken in the end. I still chuckle at that memory. But it’s on the cold nights, when the flowers haven’t bloomed yet and the wind envelops my room with the refreshing scent of peppermints that I remember the times we spent together here and on the battlefield.

The second one I invited was Camilla. Carrying a huge bouquet of purple roses upstairs, she filled my head with ideas of what this place could be and helped me with the decorations. It’s impossible not to remember her on the warm and suffocating nights, when I bend over the roses and feel their fragrance and the texture of their petals, leaves and thorns.

Her brother was the first one to intrude, though. Two knocks on the wood made me finally come back to my senses to find the blond, tall man leaning against the door frame holding a vase of red ranunculus. I beamed at the sight, finally finding the words to invite him in. Leaving the vase nearby, he crouched beside me, aiding in removing weeds and mixing the soil. The view of a disheveled and messy king to be is one I promised not to forget, as we slowly undressed, dirty hands on each other, before entering the lukewarm bath water.

At that day, after returning from a day in the training grounds, the last thing I expected was to meet Hector as a shadow waiting for me in front of my door. In the dark corridors, barely illuminated by candle lights, I could still see the sweat and dark blood stains in his under armor clothes. He greeted me with a honest smile and put a small pink peony behind my left ear. Smiling back, I almost didn’t had the time to open the door as our mouths clashed and I felt the metallic and salty taste of his lips.

Sometimes, I could hear a soothing humming in the distance, it lulled me to sleep even while laying on the terrace grass, beside the petunias flower bed and below the starry sky. But in the next mornings, I always woke up warm in my own bed, with a blue haired figure cuddling next to me.

As I care for the flowers, it’s no surprise that they remind me of the ones I learned to love in these last years. Time sure is a cruel creature, isn’t it? No war is going to last forever, and one day, the reason I assembled them here will too be over, they will bid me farewell, finally being able to return to their homelands and their own loved ones. But as long as I’m in this small heaven, I can deceive myself it will make the parting less painful, when the time comes.

Not knowing what the future holds, I once again stand in front of this summoning gate, Breidablik in hand, I make a small pray to the gods. I call for him, and can’t hold my feelings when I recognize his so longed figure. Entranced by his turquoise gentle eyes, I hand over to him the blue lilies bouquet arranged with care. He laughs before stating the most silly thing: “Your hands are so warm, Kiran”.