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It was the 27th day of the Pegasus Moon, which meant that it was Araial’s 24th birthday - the first birthday he would celebrate after his marriage to King Dimitri of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. As the new prince consort, he had been working hard, studying everything he could to be able to be of more help to Dimitri. Today, he planned on doing the same, not knowing what Dimitri had planned.
Araial headed to the castle library, his mind already occupied with his intended subjects of study. When he entered the library, though, he noticed that the books he had set aside were not where he had left them. He looked around, thinking that they had mistakenly been re-shelved, but ended up finding them on top of one of the taller shelves. He tried to reach them, but was startled when Dimitri suddenly came into view.
“Oh no you don’t,” Dimitri said teasingly. “You’re not allowed to work today. I’m not letting you.”
Araial looked at his books, and then back at his husband.
“Dima… Did you put those books up there?” he asked. “You’re one of the few people who could reach up there, and I doubt Dedue did that.”
Dimitri chuckled. “I did,” he replied. “I knew you’d be going to get them, so I put them in a place where you wouldn’t be able to. I have better plans. First, let’s go to the garden. I have a surprise for you there.”
Araial knew that there had been construction going on near the garden for months. He now wondered if it had anything to do with the surprise. He followed Dimitri closely, his curiosity piqued.
Once they reached the garden, Dimitri led Araial to the edge of the garden. There stood a large greenhouse - a place where things could be grown without being affected by Faerghus’s frigid weather. Araial stared at the greenhouse, his eyes wide.
“This… it’s for me…?” he asked incredulously. At Dimitri’s nod, Araial broke out into a bright smile.
“I know you really love flowers, but I also know that they’re difficult to grow here,” Dimitri explained. “I wanted to give you a place where you could grow many flowers, where you could go when you need a rest.”
“Thank you, Dima,” Araial replied, his voice strained with emotion. “I’ve only ever gotten one birthday gift before now…”
Dimitri turned to Araial. “Tell me about that gift,” he said softly.
Araial’s expression grew wistful. “It was a gift from my father for my tenth birthday,” he began. “He had seen me drawing in the dirt with a stick, only to get frustrated when the wind would ruin my drawings. He saved up to buy me my first sketchbook and pencil. That’s when I began putting effort into my art.
“Your father was a good man, Araial,” Dimitri murmurs. “I can see how you turned out so wonderfully. Happy birthday, my love. Here’s to many more.”
All Araial could do in response was embrace Dimitri tightly.