Chapter Text
"King Proteas." She had said.
Transformation. Courage. Survival—a flower that represented all these things. And so, he had searched, and searched, but they had eluded him.
So many markets.
So many lands traversed.
Until he realized, he was thinking too small. And there was no thinking small regarding she.
So, off to the Witch Queen's world he went, and with his Trust in hand he mowed down those who got in his way of plucking the red blooms that filled the labyrinths of the keep.
Then to Nessus where exotic foliage of alien-kind surrounded him, and though Fallen and Vex did their best to deter him, he cut them all down without dropping his harvest.
To the jungles of his homeland, he captured phoenix flowers that had not yet withered and pressed them tightly in a book before adding it to his growing pile.
And then finally, the markets of the city held something he could use—roses of the deepest red.
Perfect.
Allegorical.
She would understand...he knew she would.
A cut of burlap to wrap it all together, tied off with a braided thread of red—another metaphor. Another hint. And when he held it all in hand—turning it this way and that, he realized something was missing. It was an arrangement of fire, and it burned just like her spirit—that which had engulfed his own, but still...it wasn't enough.
He pondered.
He fretted.
But then it came to him, thinking of her duality. Both the warm and the cold. And so, he drew upon a darker power, and with each press of his bare finger, he left a speck of ice in its place. A peppering that appeared as diamonds.
And when he came to her on an evening where things had been still for once, he presented her with the fruits of his labor; a bedazzled bouquet of fire and ice.
And she said not a word.
A stare that gave nothing away, hands that did not reach for his gift, and his confidence melted. His smile that was always so grand faltered, and his fingers shook. How could he have been so wrong?
But then—
A smile so soft upon her lovely lips, growing all the more as she finally took the gift in hand—cradling it so delicately. Blossoms brought before her face, to inhale their exotic perfume, and then...oh, and then...
"Thank you." Her voice a whisper, "I adore them immensely."
A shifting of feet, a closing of a gap, and with fingers that softly stilled his face, she placed her lips upon his cheek.
Gentle. Small. But setting him ablaze.
And all was right in the universe.
