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Allura brushed her hair behind her ear with a sigh, setting down the box of things she’d found on the foot of the bed. Lance had asked for her help in preparing a “Valentine’s Day” gift for Keith yesterday, and though neither Matthew nor Shiro had made mention of the celebration, both Lance and Hunk had been adamant that her partners would appreciate her preparing something special for them. And really, that was all the reason she needed to spend a few hours combing through the castle’s storage logs.
She lifted a large triple-wick candle from the box, and cast her gaze around the room. On the vanity, perhaps? The mirror would reflect its light back out into the room. She crossed the floor to set it down, and felt a tug on her skirt. One of the mice, climbing her dress. Platt perched on her shoulder, and chittered excitedly at her.
“You want to help?” she asked, turning to look first at the pink one on her shoulder and then the other three on the footboard of her bed. They nodded, Chulatt especially vigorously, and Allura smiled. “Alright, then. Where should this one go?”
The mice helped her set out the golden wax cones and cylinders, arranging a bevy of them on one of her nightstands and scattering the rest in clusters of three to five across her dresser, vanity, and the trunk at the foot of her bed. The shortest candles, tiny lumps of wax, she lined up in small white bowls to form the borders of a path leading from the doorway to her bed. Their bed, really. It had been months since either of her partners slept in the rooms they’d first been assigned. Shiro said that being near the two of them helped with his nightmares. Matt claimed it was simply because her mattress was more comfortable than the one in his chambers.
Plachu nudged one of the bowls with his head, straightening it slightly in relation to the rest, and Allura set her hand down on the floor for her small friends to climb on. “Will you help me light them, later?” she asked, letting the mice onto her shoulder as she stood and straightened her skirts. “It would take ages to do them all by myself.”
Chuchule squeaked excitedly, and Allura giggled. “I’m certain you’ll have no trouble.” she agreed, walking back over to her bed and tipping the box over to empty out the rest of its contents. Several tight rolls of long, wide ribbons fell out, along with a lighter, adhesives, and a set of stuffed yelmores. Allura set the lighter and stuffed yelmores on the thus far bare nightstand opposite the one packed with candles, and picked up one of the ribbons. It had kept its colour, the fabric still exactly the shade of juniberry flower petals, and when she removed the pin keeping it rolled Allura gasped.
Every year after the summer festival, the streamers were packed away. She knew that, or she wouldn’t have known to search for them. What she had forgotten, though, was that they were packed with fresh juniberry flowers pressed between the layers. It was an old tradition, her mother had said when she asked about it as a child. For luck, for prosperity, for any number of things. The flowers were naught but dust now, but their scent remained. It made her heart ache, and Chulatt butted against her palm with a worried noise as she wiped her eyes with one hand.
“It’s fine.” she reassured him. “I just-” she took a deep breath, and exhaled heavily. “Mother and Father would have loved this. A day for partners to celebrate their love?” she giggled, and picked up the unpinned ribbon. “Father would’ve celebrated it with as much abandon as the equinoxes.”
Platt agreed, and Allura took the end of the ribbon from his mouth. “Mother and Matthew would’ve gotten along famously.” she mused as she picked up the adhesive and began draping the ribbon along the wall. Plachu chittered at her reproachfully when she started to stray from a level drape, and before she knew it the whole room had been ringed with mostly-even swags of juniberry-coloured fabric.
Chuchule cheeped at her as she considered the final roll, and Allura startled slightly. “What?” He repeated himself, and she smiled. “You four will handle the rest of the ribbon?” Chulatt nodded, scampering up one of the posts at the foot of her bed until she was around Allura’s eye level.
“I see.” Allura nodded. “But why Keith?”
Chulatt let out an irritated squeak, and Platt piped up with some helpful chittering.
“Oh, really? I never would have guessed that was him.” Allura tilted her head slightly, then nodded. “I’ll be back soon.”
---
When she’d first visited the castle garden after waking up, Allura had been dismayed but unsurprised to find it overgrown and wild. After a short while, though, it had started to look more cared for. She hadn’t bothered to puzzle out which one of her paladins had a green thumb, but if she’d thought about it she would have guessed Pidge. They were the one connected to the Green Lion, after all. But no, apparently it was Keith who had been slowly but steadily taming the garden back into orderly beauty.
He was there when she arrived, and Allura was mildly surprised to find him unembarrassed by her presence. Humans and galra alike, in her experience, were easily flustered when one of their secrets was discovered. Then again, Keith had always been a little odd. He helped her find the flowers she remembered seeing given as early courting gifts, plus a few which were more aromatically pleasing than aesthetically so, and she carried them back to her quarters. The third ribbon was still a mess on her bed, Chuchule directing the other three with all the sternness his squeaky little mouse voice could muster, and Allura breezed through the bedroom to her bath.
The sink was more than large enough to place all of the flowers in, and she filled it with a few inches of water to keep the cut ends fresh while she went in search of vases to put them in. The handful she found of suitable size didn’t match in the slightest, but with any luck her partners wouldn’t spend much time looking at the floral arrangements. She returned to find the flowers sorted out into visually pleasing clusters, courtesy of a very self-satisfied Plachu, and the third juniberry coloured ribbon woven into an intricate pattern between the tops of the bedposts.
“It’s beautiful.” she grinned, setting the most aromatic of Plachu’s floral arrangements on the nightstand with the yelmore dolls. The remaining ones, slightly redistributed to suit the size and number of vases Allura had hunted down, found themselves arrayed amongst the candles on the dresser. When she finally stepped back to survey her handiwork, Allura grinned. The room looked transformed, and she hadn’t even changed the bedsheets out for nice ones yet.
“Thank you.” she smiled at the mice lined up in front of the yelmore dolls. “I’m not sure how I would’ve done all this without you four.”
Platt and Chulatt made squeaky embarrassed noises, waving their little paws in the air, and Allura giggled. “Really, thank you. I’m certain Shiro and Matthew will appreciate your hard work.” and even if they didn’t, she was certain they would thank the mice anyways. Her partners were infinitely kind and caring, it was part of what had drawn her to them. She went over to the linen closet and opened it, pulling out her softest sheets. She could hardly wait to see the looks on Shiro and Matt’s faces.