Flowers for Pirates, Flowers for Elves

by mayorofgoose

Summary:

Gilear needs help buying flowers for Hallariel. Fabian reluctantly agrees to help.

Alternatively: Fabian realizes that he’s disconnected from his elven side. Gilear is an elf.

Notes:

No one ever writes about Fabian and Gilear so I took matters into my own hands. I don’t know if this is even good. But I like flowers and I’d like to think that Fabian would have a secret gardening hobby. I’d recommend looking up what the flowers look like to fully see my vision here.

Fabian walked into Seacastor Manor hungry for someone to talk to. His bloodrush practice had gone exceptionally well and he just knew that Cathilda would be excited to hear, and then he could tell Mama if she isn’t busy with–

Thud.

“Ow.”

…Gilear.

Realistically, Fabian knew there was a chance he would run into him. Spiritually, he was hoping that he had accumulated enough good karma to avoid him until tomorrow.

He approached the living room with caution, peering down to find a slightly bruised Gilear staring at his crystal with confusion. With a sigh, Fabian asked a question he wasn’t sure he actually cared to have answered.

“Gilear, what are you doing?”

“I was going to search something on my crystal but I missed the couch and fell to the floor,” the elf began. “Then I reached to pull myself up on the couch and knocked my phone into my eye.”

Fabian smiled.

“Very well then. Goodbye.”

Fabian about-faced and headed to his room.

“Wait,” Gilear called, voice uncertain.

“What is it?”

“I was speaking to Cathilda in the garden and she told me of your…affinity…for florals.”

Fabian made a mental note to scold Cathilda. Sure, he’s conquered toxic masculinity through the divine art of dance but his flower time is private.

Vexed, Fabian spewed, “Yes, I like flowers. But there’s nothing wrong with having hobbies that are seen as traditionally feminine, and frankly, insinuating that I am less than–”

“I need your help,” Gilear interrupted earnestly.

Fabian stopped, looking to Gilear for explanation.

“Fabian,” Gilear sighed, “I know that we do not usually see eye to eye.”

“We don’t ever see eye to eye,” Fabian interjected, pointing to his father’s eyepatch just to remind Gilear that he is cooler than him.

“We do have one thing in common,” the older elf continued. “We both love your mother.”

Fabian’s face hardened. How could he assume that his sorry excuse for a relationship would be the same as his unyielding love for his mother. He had saved her life. What had Gilear done for her? Increased her yogurt intake?

His expression must’ve clued Gilear into his train of thought, because he said softly.
“I want to make her happy, and I need your help to do so.”

After many moments of silence, the boy conceded with a small, “What are you wanting to do?”

Gilear’s ears perked up.

“I want to surprise her with flowers, and my past attempts have been…unsuccessful.”

Fabian remembers the first bouquet, Digitalis purpurea, the Foxglove. The flower of insincerity and deceit.

He also remembers how his Mama responded to said flowers.

“What are you trying to tell me? What are you hiding?” She held a thin elven sword up to her lover’s neck.

Gilear shivered as he relived the memory silently.

When picking flowers, Gilear’s infamous bad luck seeped into every choice, and the unintended reactions to them.

Yarrows, Achillea millefolium, “I do NOT need your protection Gilear!”

Lily of the Valley, Convallaria majalis, “Are you calling me sad?”

Starflowers, Trientalis borealis, “This means nothing, Gilear. This is the absence of a meaning.”

And Fabian’s personal favorite, Solidago sempervirens, the Goldenrod.

“Are you serious?” Hallariel barked angrily.

“They’re supposed to bring good luck!” Gilear tried.

“That guy tried to kill us!” Fig choked out between fits of laughter.

So yeah. Suffice to say that Gilear really did need help. Despite how fun it is for Fabian to watch Gilear crash and burn, he would like to see his Mama smile.

“Move over,” Fabian said as he joined Gilear on the floor. “Let’s start with what style she would like.”

Surprised, Gilear moved to the side and allowed Fabian to have his crystal. He began frenzied typing, turning the screen to show Gilear the selection of “pirate flowers” he had pulled up. He makes eye contact with Gilear and hesitates for a moment before speaking.

“When my Papa was here, we always had pirate flowers around. Mama would want something similar to that. Something striking, brave, connected to the sea,” he began excitedly, not stopping when Gilear tried to interject. “We could get Pearly Everlasting, to signify immortality, or the Compass Plant for guidance, oh or we could do Silver Crowns to signify royalty!”

After a moment Gilear nodded, “Very well, yes. I suppose we can see what this section has to offer. Perhaps the Crimson Pirate Daylily, it says here that they signify new beginnings.”

“Pft, are you kidding? Mama wouldn’t care for the sparseness of the petals,” Fabian said trying to imagine his Mama’s taste and not because he isn’t ready to acknowledge the new beginning in question that would be stupid.

“What about the Halberd-leaf Rose Mallow?” Gilear continued.

“Those are for gentleness,” Fabian said. “Do you really think my Mama is gentle?”

“Fair point, let’s continue to search.”

The Fabian scrolled, Gilear pointing at a beautiful bouquet, Fabian knocking down the suggestion immediately after. Dozens of flowers went by until Gilear reaches for Fabian’s hand, lowering the crystal into his lap.

Awkwardly, Gilear began, “Fabian, I understand that you love your mother dearly and that you know her quite well, but do you think that we’re looking at pirate flowers because Hallariel likes them or because you like them?”

Fabian’s eyes narrow at the accusation.

“Of course Mama likes them, she loves pirates,” the boy replied with certainty.

“From what I understand of your mother, she doesn’t love all pirates, she loves two pirates,” Gilear said carefully, “but she is an elf, Fabian.”

Looking down, Fabian thought back to all the times she rolled her eyes as Papa sang sea shanties, how she disappeared to her sensory-deprivation egg when his father began to reminisce on his adventures. Then he thought of how happy she was, dancing with him in Kei Lumennura, the first time Fabian had truly connected to his elven ancestry. She might be an elf, but he’s half pirate. Has she always resented this half of him?

“I don’t think I can help you,” Fabian replied, smaller than he would normally allow himself to sound. “I don’t know how to be an elf.”

Gilear looked at the boy curled in on himself and sighed. “Let’s learn together.”

So they did. They browsed the elven flower section, noting some potential options, until Fabian stopped to point.

“I’ve seen these before, they’re Wood Anemone’s,” he said curiously. “We mixed them into the greenery on the front lawn one time. I didn’t know they were elven.”

“It looks like your elven ancestry is not so much a mystery,” Gilear replied. “What do they connote?”

“They represent both healing and death,” he said, looking at Gilear with a nod.

“I suppose she’d quite like that,” the older elf said. “But aren’t they a little bit…small for Hallariel?”

Fabian laughed. Maybe Gilear knows his Mama more than he was giving him credit for.

They found some red Night Blooming Cereus’ to pair with the white Wood Anemone and placed the order. The tension that usually sat between them evaporated as the conversation went on. The pair stood up off the floor.

“Thank you for your help,” Gilear said with a small smile. “Your mother is going to love them.”

“Yes, she will,” Fabian agreed.

“I know I’m not the most impressive elf,” Gilear began, “But I would gladly answer any questions you may have about elven history, if you were ever to be curious.”

“That would be nice, Gilear. Thank you,” Fabian replied earnestly.

The pleasant exchange hung in the air for a moment before Gilear spoke.

“Well,” he started, “I was thinking that since we successfully bonded over flowers for Hallariel, maybe we could get dinner together?”

“Don’t push it.”

“Understood.”

Fighting back a smile, Fabian turned to walk to his room. Not fighting, Gilear smiled watching him go.

Notes:

I hope you liked this. Please be nice to me. Leave a comment if you feel extra nice :)