[ AW ] Bouquet for a Friend

W

illow's heart was racing with the excitement of the evening. It may have been past her bedtime, but the almost-yearling was wide awake. Twin pools of bright, grassy green tried to take in all of the sights and smells, and she was over the moon to be at the grown-up party with her friend. Gently carried in her maw were a collection of colorful flowers plucked right from the king's garden.


And it was for that friend, for Juniper, that Willow had made up some silly excuse to walk away from her side for a minute or two to gather what would be her surprise, and a token of her appreciation for her friendship. She was humming, feeling confident that this surprise would make Juni very happy. Since they were in a huge garden, with more plants than even Willow had seen before, it seemed quite natural to appreciate the flowers that grew here. Having grown up among the wildflowers, free, what else would Willow do but pick a few for her friend?


It had not occurred to her that this might be frowned upon, or worse, illegal. In Willow's innocent mind, she was doing what any normal wolf did. She was enjoying the blossoms, and she intended to share that joy with Juni, as well. And so the girl picked out each flower with the greatest care, one of each color, except for a green one. Her eyes searched hurriedly for the final elusive bloom that would make her pretty bouquet complete.


@Kvothe

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

A fell wind whipped through the Garden, and the floral scent of the King's blessed blooms clung to its creeping, carnal edge. Impish and fae, the breeze whispered playful promises into the sultry sky, innocent of the political pageantry proffered by the renegade royals. It was a light, heavenly perfume, and thus the scent seemed disingenuous in the bitter breath of Winter - a heart forged from Spring that flourished even within a broken body of ice. Few men looked beyond its bastard beauty to the pulsing heart of the truths that beat beneath.

But this was not a night for second guessing or duplicitous deals. This was a night for celebration, of bonds brokered and fresh-forged. Though each precious flower inferred its own implication, it was the intention of their presentation that fueled the fires of renewed friendship and passion. Beauty and generosity had been turned to a second purpose - and it was that sort of economy of effort that Kvothe appreciated the most.

As dusk drifted into true night, the Colonel marched his way through the well-manicured pathways, his steps hale and measured, each one perfect and precise. The Ball - and the King's birthday celebration - were only a few short weeks away. Already the Major and his ilk were increasing security around the Castle, and Kvothe was conveniently placed to take a turn or two through the hedgerows. He had his own business in the Garden as well, of course, but that had already been concluded. His meeting with Nassar had gone about as well as could be expected, and he was cautiously optimistic for the future. An arranged marriage was distasteful on the whole, but he had never found a reason to object to Nassar herself.

Thus, given sufficient incentive once, Kvothe did not mind whiling away an hour or two on patrol. He turned a corner, only to find a young girl drifting dreamily through the well-manicured pathways. That in itself would have been no cause for alarm; several visitors were pacing casually down the clear-cut paths, admiring the artistic architecture and exquisite greenery. But this girl, golden and gilded though she was, held a bundle of flowers carefully in her teeth. Witchcraft eyes blinked in the face of such bold ignorance - but she was young, and the unbridled wonder on her face told him that she had not intended the malice or mischief her actions implied. Kvothe stepped politely forward, his voice pitched low in proffered courtesy. He was a soldier, true, but no one would ever name him a brute."Pardon me, Miss. Those flowers belong to the King; they must remain in the Garden."

©

T

At first, Willow had not seen the male as he approached, too focused on finding that purple green flower. Wouldn’t it be just perfect if she could find a bright green blossom that would match her friend’s sparkling sights? But his deep voice, masculine and unexpected, caused the girl to visibly jump in surprise, uttering a startled yelp. Her eyes flashed in the torch light of the garden as they turned swiftly to the grown-up. The rainbow of flowers she had collected cascaded onto the floor from her maw, to the cold ground before her diminutive paws, and she unconsciously took two steps backward to put distance between herself and the stranger.


It had not occurred to Willow that what she was doing was improper, and the flesh beneath the tri-color hues of her facade grew warm with embarrassment and shame. Her eyes fell guiltily to the flowers scattered now at her feet. She had no idea who this brute was, but if he was able to give orders to a commoner like her, then maybe he was somebody really, really important. And now that somebody was mad at her, and the thought caused the girl to shrink in posture and demeanor, as if she could will herself to simply vanish before the other’s watchful gaze.


Her voice, usually self-assured and cheerful, came out choked with fear in a tone barely above a whisper. ”I -- I’m sorry. I thought -- I didn’t know --” She was still staring at the flowers. The colors looked dimmer, far less appealing there on the ground. Had she done something so bad that it meant punishment? Kings could do whatever they wanted to, after all. "Are you g-going to tell the king what I did?"


@Kvothe

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

His voice caused the young fawn to startle; Kvothe blinked as the girl nearly jumped out of her skin, clearly too caught up in her thoughts to have heard his approach. Instinctively, he froze, muscles tensing in echoed reaction. Had he been a predator, a villain of any sort, her innocent reaction would have offered nothing short of tawdry, tepid temptation. The instinctive wave of fear that drowned the gilded green of her emerald eyes, the warm flush of mortification that bronzed her cheeks...The girl was a virgin sacrifice ripe for the altar. Bitter, beautiful bait.

Fortunately, Kvothe was not a villain of any sort. The innocent citizens, the youth like her...he had pledged his life and career to serve and protect such peoples. He certainly had not intended to scare her; his pupils widened in momentary dismay at her visceral reaction. Flowers rained like shards of shattered glass onto the ground, abandoned in fear and shock as the young girl shrank back from him. Kvothe stood still, careful not to exacerbate her fear any further. A gentleman, he dipped his head low, both in greeting and in reassurance. Still she drew further into herself, and he could not tell whether it was from fear or mortification. Shyness, perhaps? Remorse? Emotions were not his forte. Especially not the emotions of young girls.

'I - I'm sorry. I thought - I didn't know -' The girl's voice was a whisper on the wind. 'Are you g-going to tell the king what I did?' Kvothe blinked, and his witchcraft eyes widened further. "No, Miss," he answered, his voice low so as not to startle her, his tone gentle. "It is not so great a crime as all that." He proffered piecemeal reassurance, sitting down so that he did not tower over her so dramatically. "And I am not in the business of arresting young girls for the crime of ignorance." A pause. A self-deprecating grimace. "I apologize; I did not mean to frighten you." He tried a small, muted smile, courtiers mask donned to hide the pure masculine panic inspired by a female in distress.

©

W

hen the stranger addressed her again, despite his efforts to seem soothing, the brute’s voice was so low that Willow seemed further startled -- she had been around males, of course, but none quite like this one. He was intimidating, nothing like the males she knew around the College.


Her instinct to flee or to cry nearly overpowered her, but, sensing that this would only make her appear more foolish, she remained perfectly still, as if she had suddenly been turned into a statue. Only her eyes moved, darting to the incriminating flowers that lay discarded, where her focus remained. What good will they do the king now?


The brute continued in his deep tones that met Willow's perception as menacing: "And I am not in the business of arresting young girls for the crime of ignorance.” The final word caused the vivid green sights of the child to grow wider, if such a thing were even possible in her fear, and her chin quivered, though she willed it to stop before she started to cry like a baby. She already looked dumb! His apology and attempted smile did little to calm her anxieties or embarrassment as he sat before her.


But the brute was correct in his assessment: Willow was ignorant about the ways of Mainlanders and guards. Here, she now realized, it was not just fun and flowers, but also males like this one, and finally, she looked back up at the stranger with nervous eyes like a rabbit. ”Are -- are you the flower guard?” Again, her sights fell to the sad blossoms. "I was -- I was just gathering them for a special friend. A-and, she just -- she really deserves them. She is -- she's very nice, that's all."



@Kvothe

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

Despite his reassurance, the girl seemed no less terrified of his admonishment. Indeed, she looked almost ready to weep. Kvothe's insides tightened uncomfortably, guilt weighing like a heavy stone in his guts. His job was to serve and protect - not terrify little girls. A full and eager proponent of law and order, he had never hesitated to enforce the rules of the kingdom, and he had no mercy to spare for those thieves and traitors who caused chaos for the sake of selfish gain...but that was a far cry from bullying common citizens, even ones who committed petty crimes out of ignorance. He did not feel guilty for enforcing the King's rule - but he did feel bad that he had apparently terrified the girl so badly.

'Are -- are you the flower guard?' Kvothe blinked, and then regained his gentle smile. "For tonight, perhaps," he conceded. If only his work was always so straightforward. As he'd risen through the ranks, his duties had grown increasingly more complicated, too often fraught with the poison of politics. Guarding a patch of flowers for the rest of his life would be a welcome reprieve.

The girl stammered to provide an explanation, and the Colonel's galactic gaze softened further. 'I was -- I was just gathering them for a special friend. A-and, she just -- she really deserves them. She is -- she's very nice, that's all.' The earnestness in the girl's green gaze was unfeigned, pure in its unabashed sense of sincerity. "I do not doubt it - not if she has friends who think of her so fondly," he allowed."Perhaps instead you could invite your friend here, to walk the paths in person? I would be honored to act as escort, if that were the case."

A dip of his head, courtly and courteous. A member of the gentry by proxy, Kvothe had long since had the manners of court beaten into his body. "My name is Kvothe, acting Colonel of His Majesty's army, most recently of Castle Stuart. What is your name, young Miss?"

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T

o her great horror, the large brute asked if Willow would bring Juniper over, and she quickly shook her head no. She did not want to get her friend into trouble for something that was not her doing. Again, her gaze fell to the sad flowers she had dropped. ”Could I just… What if I just gave her one? Surely the king wouldn’t miss just one. I -- I am sorry for being greedy and taking so many. But if I could just have one…” Her heart beat in double-time within her rib cage at the audacity of her question. But seeing the blossoms go to waste just seemed plain wrong.


He introduced himself with a name that Willow could not even begin to understand or pronounce, and she nodded politely. He gave his title -- Kernel -- and the tri-color girl gave him a strange look as she thought of the corn the family had recently harvested in the fall. But then, maybe it made sense, if he was a guardian of gardens. She knew nothing of the army, but found this information to be rather disturbing. What did someone like him do when there were no commoners to keep away from the flowers?


But her expression resumed its fear when the attention turned back to her. ”M-my name?” Her words came with increased nervousness. Why did he need to know her name…? Was she about to end up on the king’s Wanted list of bad criminals to be punished accordingly?! ”My name is -- is Flora,” she lied. There. Though she did not feel good about being untruthful, as dishonesty was not in her nature, it seemed important to her young and frightened mind to do something that would keep her identity safe and secure from the guard of flowers… just in case.



@Kvothe

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

The girl denied his invitation, her fear a palpable fog in the air around her. Perhaps she was afraid he meant to trap them - to lure her and her friend to the Castle together so that he might punish them. Certainly she seemed invested in keeping her friend away. Kvothe's expression smoothed into one of gentle understanding, and he did not press her further in that vein. No matter how kindly he had intended it, it was evident that the smaller wolf was too scared to view him as anything more than a threat. A polite, well meaning threat, perhaps, but evidently no less frightening for all of his courtly mannerisms. Kvothe had no desire to embody the girl's vision of what made a villain; it was not a mask he had ever been comfortable with, despite the number of times it had been offered to him.

'Could I just… What if I just gave her one? Surely the king wouldn’t miss just one. I -- I am sorry for being greedy and taking so many. But if I could just have one…' Kvothe's eyes fell, and he shook his head with genuine regret. "It is not up to me, young Miss. I do not make the laws, I only enforce them." He kept his body language neutral, but his voice was firm. He grieved that he was disappointing such an innocent request, but he was a scion of the crown first and foremost.

It seemed like such a simple thing, a flower. But he knew all too well how one exception would spiral; one flower would become two, then three, then eight, and by the end of the fortnight the King's Garden would be barren. The laws were in place for a reason, and he would not be the one to undermine the King's authority on the grounds of a young girl's gift. Besides - if he did not stop her, another guard surely would.

He offered his name in introduction instead, and asked hers in turn. She squirmed in place, doubtless viewing the question as another sort of trap. 'M-my name? My name is -- is Flora,' she stammered. The lie was so obvious he could have reached out and touched it. Kvothe blinked - and then coughed, hiding his amusement. "Ah. Miss Flora then," he repeated, bowing low. "A pleasure to meet you." His attention drifted back to her face, galaxies adrift in a sea of regret. "I am sorry to be the source of such ill tidings," he offered. "But fortunately, I do just so happen to know that there is a patch of wildflowers just beyond the southern gates of the Castle that are free for the taking. The castle gardeners often gather new herbs and such out there. You may have better luck finding a gift for your friend out that way?" he suggested, extending an olive branch.

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”I

t is not up to me, young Miss. I do not make the laws, I only enforce them." The stern words were met with a cold look, quite uncharacteristic of the Fritz girl. But she did not dare to argue or question why, sights wandering to find some quick escape from this situation.


The male, to his credit, was doing his best in the situation as he offered an alternative, but Willow remained stubborn, struck by the injustice of it all. Her eyes narrowed slightly. ”It’s okay,” she stated with as neutral a tone as she could muster. ”I actually have my own garden, where I live, and it’s much, much better than anything any king could hope to grow!” She looked at the pristine, perfect blossoms in the garden with newfound disdain.


”And-- and he’s not allowed to have any of my flowers, either! Even if he is a king…” He had enough already as it was, did he not? Pale green eyes flicked one way and then the other, as if her words alone would be enough to seal her doom. She cast a final look at Kvothe, giving a huff before turning away from him to find Juniper again.


Willow was not feeling nearly as festive as she had been before her encounter with Kvothe. On the contrary, her expression was one of childish disappointment, tinged with something different… a new understanding of the world in which she lived. Willow decided that she did not like a place that had such silly rules, nor was she a great fan of the wolf who made them. It was difficult to imagine any one being who thought themselves more important, better than the rest.


[exit Willow]




@Kvothe

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck