Chapter Text
It was dark, and so so warm… there was pressure all around- not stifling, not overwhelming, comforting. Safe.
She… hm, that doesn't feel right, she was a she, right?
She was, is, but isn't. Not in the same way anymore, thoughts can't be held together as much as she wants, but there was no panic that came from that.
Its almost blissful how thoughts fade in and fade out, drifting like the unstoppable movement of time.
Days… it hasn't been long, has it? It's too dark to even tell if time is moving.
Pressure starts to build from the inside, coiling and pressing against something hard that made up her being.
A crack sounds, no pain comes from it like what someone would think. that pressure releases and unfurls among the warm, wet earth.
Little by little, dirt is moved, pushed out of the way as more growth spreads around between the gaps, roots taking hold and soaking up all the water that soaks deep enough.
Suddenly the earth falls away and warmth fills her senses, sight doesn't come to her, but that's okay- the warmth fills that gap that was from that loss.
The warmth doesn't last long, it fades with the setting sun… But no chill comes about how one would expect with the chilled night air, it was still much warmer than the night should be outside.
The lazy quiet is nice, muffled sounds could be… Heard feels like a wrong word to use, felt? Sound was happening and she knew it was happening.
Slowly the feeling of the suns rays could be felt again, a louder noise happens not long after. A door? The vibrations through the floor is what alerted her more than the sound.
There was humming, whistling, bird sounds mixed in as well. Words that don't quite make sense, the tone sounded caring.
Cold water is poured over her like rain, watering can, she was for sure being cared for by someone. Garden? Greenhouse perhaps, but it was still so hard to tell.
It's easier to tell days and night apart now, the warmth fading and returning with the sun. Each day the caring voice returns with water, fueling her growth taller and taller.
Leaves from her stem unfurl, catching more of the light from the comforting sun. If she could get startled she would have- a cookies hand gently touches her stem, the voice mumbling something that she cant quite get.
It sounds like a woman's voice, half talking to the flowers and half talking to whatever kind of bird that seemed to always accompany this cookies presence. Soft praise and encouragement is really all that she can glean from the unknown words.
Is it from how she now is that she can't understand? Is it because the cookie spoke a different language? It doesn't matter.
She is loved here. Cared for, as if she was the most precious thing in the whole world.
More days pass, growing taller and stronger is the only focus that sticks in her mind.
The end of her starts to grow thicker, more bulbous as her insides start to change underneath the growth. Something was forming under her skin.
Skin? Was it skin? She's sure there had to be another name for it, but this area had never been something she looked too deeply into.
It felt as if she was going to crack again, like that time so long ago… Was it long ago? It felt like years had passed, when in reality she knew that there's no way for that much time to pass.
Her head felt like it was going to burst, but it wasn't as horrible as it seemed. And so when the light of day hit her once again, the ends of the bulb at her very end starts to split. No crack like the first time, just the release of built up pressure.
When the cookie returns this day, new rich soil was spread about the bed that she now called home, water following soon after.
There was surprise in the cookies tone, that gentle touch returning, feeling over her to make sure nothing was going wrong with her slow development.
More days pass- it has to have been weeks by now, and each day that came it brought more expanding. Petals unfurling slow, like thick honey.
Finally though, she feels the last burst of energy as her head fully takes in the setting sun, and suddenly… she's so tired. Fully bloomed and catching the last rays of light from the day.
The door opens, its odd, water and soft murmurs had already been given today. It was rare that there were multiple visits in one day- not uncommon though. Sometimes smaller presences would come and mull about the room, rhythmic vibrations sent through the floors. Sweeping? She's unsure.
This was different though, heavier steps with an odd noise sending deeper vibrations through the floors and earth every other step. It was such a familiar gait, thoughts try to connect the pieces, it felt like her mind was moving in slow motion as the energy used from growth slowly fades from her.
She's no longer growing. She knows that even with care that she won't live for long, but she hopes it's long enough to figure out that new cookie.
The form moves slowly, stopping every few steps. It isn't until they stop in front of her that she realizes what they were doing. A tender touch meets her petals, the hand familiar in a way that makes her soul ache, She longs to lean in and melt under it.
Pure Vanilla Cookie…
He was gently stroking and whispering soft love to each and every flower in his garden.
Pieces click into place on where she was. His lily garden, inside his castle and tucked away safely among tall walls of glass to let the light fill the flowers he cared for like his life depended on it.
His touch doesn't last, the moment of connection was fleeting, but enough to put peace into the very depths of her being. She can feel as he moves slowly to the small gazebo at the end of the room, sitting down to just… be.
How lucky to be here, to be with him for her first new life?
Peace fills her, the days blend more and more. She does feel better with the days that fill her with warmth, but less energy gets gathered, just enough to sustain her under his loving care.
He doesn't leave the garden for several days, other cookies come and stay with him. That's good. He needs just as much care as his flowers now.
Eventually, he does get up, his walk is even slower. Each flower once again getting the love and affection that she knows is deeper than a love for his garden.
The touch she gets is soft, drips of water hit her petals. Not like from a watering can, these were warm and unevenly dripped.
Tears.
And then he continues on, words soft and gentle are spoken. The burden of what is said is lost, but the love behind it is clear.
The door opens, and then closes behind him.
Pure Vanilla Cookie takes over the care of the garden now that he has returned, his visits were longer than his companions, books were read, songs sung softly.
Even under his care, she feels the life slowly seep out of her.
It has to have been several months by the time she feels her head droop, her leaves limp.
Soon after her stem bends under it's own weight.
Warm earth greets her, soft and full of new life.
A sprout brushes against her as it breaks free from the dirt it calls home.
There was no last breath, no pain. The outside world was hard to sense now.
A touch brings her mind back for a moment, more wet tears drip down her leaves. He came back for this, not consciously, not on purpose, he had no idea who she was. Any flower dying would have caused this.
Fading.
What a wonderful life.
"Welcome back, little Lily."
