Early Leaves Aflower

Evie

It’s experimentation day in the Ignatius greenhouse. These days, that means a second pair of hands for the first time in Evie’s life. 

Tongue pinched out between her teeth, Evie delicately wraps grafting tape around the spindly stem of her newest pet project - the diagonal cut of the new strain having been soaked in the healing springs water for multiple days. “Can you cut this for me darling?” It’s a garbled whisper with her focus-frozen face making things difficult but loud enough for the young man to hear it in the blissfully quiet greenhouse. 

Darling seems to be her concrete favorite for her boys, but the impish Wordsworth in her always keeps a sharp eye, ready to bestow a true nickname upon the baby demigod as he discovers himself. Evie leans aside just far enough for Amhran to slip between to cut the grafting tape, a lock of fire falling over her eye and making her nose twitch with the threat of betrayal.

I can wait for you at the bottom, wait years if I gotta
Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

To the surprise of absolutely no one, the greenhouse has remained one of Amhran's favourite places to be. It would be disingenuous to assume that the young Raeling sneaks away to the warm, vibrant space whenever he can; given his size, sneaking isn't a natural skill he possesses, and besides which, he doesn't yet know that there are alternatives to merely walking and running.

All of that is to say that he moves around the greenhouse with the same sort of comfort that comes with shrugging into an old and well-worn jacket, and by the time Evie's voice reaches his ears, he's already half turning towards her. "Of course," he says, voice rich and low as if not to disturb his slumbering and root-bound brothers and sisters.

Leaving the seedlings he'd been planting, he wipes off peaty hands onto his pants and crosses the short distance to Evie, collecting up a pair of small hand-shears. Barefoot, of course (his boots are set down safely next to the door ready for their trek back to the house), he bends down and carefully tucks the soft flame of her hair back behind her ear, before cutting the grafting tape with a snick.

"Is that alright?"

Evie

His voice becomes familiar with every passing day, a presence as expected as the sun. He walks with the same ambling gait he’d shown the day he sprouted but with surer steps these days; an endearing parallel to Erebos’ crawling and toddling efforts.

Vision restored and sneeze averted, Evie smiles gratefully as she chances a brief glance at him without risking moving her hands. An expression that only fades as she sighs with relief the moment the tape is severed. “That’s perfect, thank you.” Straightening (and arching her spine to ease the knots from being hunched for so long) Evie props her hands on her hips and surveys the hopeful future hybrid. “Now we wait! I’m hoping it will produce stronger medicinal leaves with the spring water grafted internally.” Whether that effect also fades upon leaving Halo is simply a future phase of experimentation. 

Relaxing her arms and companionably swaying sideways to bump her shoulder into Amhran (somewhere around his ribs given their height difference) Evie smiles up at him. “Do you need a hand next? I want to hear what you think about everything you’ve been doing with Deimos.” Though she’d nearly flown into a rage upon hearing how he’d been tossed about at one of the meetings, it’s preferable to being in the dark - or relying on Deimos’ succinct summaries.

I can wait for you at the bottom, wait years if I gotta
Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

Withdrawing and setting down the shears as the hybrid is properly assembled, for lack of better word, Amhran finds himself standing beside his mother with a gentle smile, head cocked as if he might hear what the plant has to say for itself. Not that he can actually speak to them - at least not yet - but he nevertheless seems quietly confident in her efforts. "I believe it will turn out well," he says with a nod. "Perhaps we ought to continue watering it with spring water?" Just to ensure continued propagation as it grows, of course.

No longer toppling comically at even the slightest jostle to his centre of balance, Amhran sways a little as Evie's shoulder bumps against his own. "I would like that very much," he confirms, gesturing for her to follow him to his tray of seedlings. "I found a few of these in the Hollowed Grounds, when Deimos and I went looking for..." Gods, what had they been called? "For voidweaver spiders," he confirms at last. "And some others in Hak Etme. I am interested to see if I can help them to flourish here."

Kneeling once more beside the tray, there are a few seeds left to plant, and Amhran thinks nothing of delving once more, barehanded, into the potting soil.

Evie

Evie clicks her fingers in an aha, winking up at Amhran with a proud cut to her smile. “That’s my boy, great idea! We’ll have to haul back a few containers worth, but we can leave that for later.” There’s no rush, and it will allow him to avoid the dreaded shoes for a while yet. 

Trailing after him, Evie sinks to her knees on one of the plentiful kneeling mats and plunges her hands into the soil with the same lack of hesitation Amhran displays. “The Grounds have - or, used to have - tough winters they must weather somehow. They might survive in the Citadel dome at the very least, and obviously the greenhouses.” Or the Greenwing, though she is always cautious to introduce potentially invasive species. Thanks, Family. “I advocated for greenhouses in the Grounds for years before and after the barrier fell. I never thought I’d see the region recover,” she confesses, sorrow a subtle thing in the angle of her lips and her far-away gaze. “I’m glad they can farm again. Do you think the Ancient population being so small there will mean they won’t have to worry about over-hunting?” A theoretical question, curious to see how his mind and opinions have grown.

I can wait for you at the bottom, wait years if I gotta
Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

We can leave that for Deimos, Amhran might have joked if his sense of humour had been more developed. For now, though, he merely offers his mother a smile and a nod, adding the task to a mental list and giving the hybrid one last look before heading back to his own planting with Evie. He cocks his head, soaking in the information about the Hollowed Grounds and its ecosystem much like any child learning. 

"Perhaps I will go back to visit during Deepfrost and see if there is anything in bloom." The last thing he wants is to cause unnecessary stress to what he's begun to grow here in the greenhouse. Evie is right, though, and at the very least, his seedlings will flourish whatever the weather in the Citadel's greenhouse.

Subtle though it might be, Amhran has spent more time watching Evie than anyone else since he'd sprung from the soil and onto two feet, and he reaches automatically to clasp a hand - dirty, albeit - to her forearm. "It seemed to be flourishing when I visited," he tells her earnestly. As for the Ancients? He knows only the basics about the fiery race that has taken up residence in his mother's birthplace, but he can give an educated guess.

"If their bloodlust is less frequent than regular hunger, they may become part of the region's natural cycles. Animals may begin to produce more offspring to compensate, or the Ancients may cull invasive species." If they're wise. Alas, Amhran hasn't yet come to terms with the more chaotic aspects of that race.

"Would you like to go back there?" he asks suddenly.

Evie

His development will come in time, but worry not - Evie's thinking it too, so he's in great company. Companion planting at its best you might say.

"You should, it will be a better guide than any tests you run here." Though she'll hate to see him go, as she does every time he steps out the front door. It makes Evie grateful that Erebos isn't capable of walking just yet, and certainly not adventuring. Her heart hasn't had time to learn how to cope with the kind of worry Amhran sows in its ventricles.

All that worry is worth it for the long fingers around her freckled arm and the earnest slant of Amhran's brow that is distinctly her somehow despite his lack of childhood or genetic connection to her. Or maybe she's looking for comfort past what he already offers her, a connection to something - someone - to replace what she used to have with the Grounds. Placing her hand over his, Evie smiles, proud of his hypothesizing and glad to foster it with future open-ended questions.

One such question dies on her tongue, taken aback by his swift rejoinder. She blinks quickly. "Well - it's complicated, darling," she begs off gracelessly, head tilting back toward the soil. Her hair is pinned up too high to conceal the conflict of her drawn brow in full but it's second nature to look away from eyes as guileless as Amhran's. "I'll visit with you if you'd like, absolutely. But it's hard to be there for me sometimes. Emotionally." Freckled fingers grip the soil and compact it tightly, and Evie stares for a moment before exhaling and releasing it to trickle down over the seeds in a quiet hush of sound that feels loud in her ears. "So it depends on what you mean by go back."

I can wait for you at the bottom, wait years if I gotta
Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

Nodding to himself, Amhran cements the idea more or less in his mind and lets his thoughts cast out briefly to wonder what the Grounds might look like during Deepfrost, and what might grow there. Would it be as barren and ferocious as Halo, or would it be mild enough to stay outside long enough to do some exploring? Time would tell.

Drawn back to Evie and their conversation by the warmth of her hand atop his own, Amhran listens earnestly to her explanation, his attention divided between the rich soil beneath the fingers of his free hand and the worry writ plain into her features. "I was referring to a visit," he says, perhaps a little too quickly so as to assuage whatever tension seems to have sewn its way through her body.

"You are so knowledgeable about it, I just wondered whether you would enjoy seeing it again. But I suppose not all memories are necessarily good ones, are they?" His brow furrows as he plants his seeds and sprinkles more soil over them. "I would never want to cause you any pain."

Evie

Evie releases a breath she had known in theory she'd been holding, accustomed to Amhran's unclear implications, but it takes more tension from her shoulders with it than she'd anticipated. Evie reaches into his section of soil to place her fingers over his, squeezing lightly as she turns her head to look upon him now that her courage has returned. 

"You would never cause me pain. I shouldn't have assumed - but there's little I wouldn't do for you, and that can be intimidating too." If 'intimidating' is a suitable word for 'unexpected, early-onset terror upon realizing one's children may not want to stay in their homeland forever and that maternal instinct and nationalism might be equally as strong and also utterly at odds in oneself'. Maybe that's an explanation for when Amhran is older. 

"New memories might help the old ones feel less painful," Evie muses as she returns to her portion of seeds, covering what few remain before sitting back on her shins and slapping her thighs lightly with dirty palms in a satisfied manner. A lock of hair flops out of its elastic confines, and she pushes it back without a care for how it too will become literally soiled. Ooh, that's a good mom joke to store for later. "My knowledge will be very outdated given how much it's changed, but we should visit. Let's do it," she proposes brightly, offering a hand for him to shake on it before she can overthink her way into begging off.

I can wait for you at the bottom, wait years if I gotta
Heaven knows I ain't getting over you

the harder the rain, honey, the sweeter the sun

"Well, even if that is the case, I would not want you to ever have to do something for me that would make you unhappy, especially if I did not know what I was asking," Amhran says, unconsciously locking in selfless as a personality trait, at least when it came to those he considers family. Smiling to feel her fingers squeeze around his own, he similarly turns back to the seeds and soil, content with their work once it's complete and mimicking Evie in dusting the soil from his hands.

His own hair is unbound today, which likely explains the few smears of dirt already present on his face, and he tips his head back to smile up at the glass roof of the greenhouse overhead. "I would like to make some new memories with you," he agrees; not just to overwrite those painful instances in the Grounds, but to weave a further history between them.

Glancing back to his mother, he reaches out to shake her hand with a lopsided smile. "Alright. This Deepfrost, we will visit the Grounds," he confirms, only to be literally interrupted by the rumbling of his stomach. "Ah," he says. "Does that mean it is lunch time?"

Evie

It's a sweet trait to see bloom before her eyes, but Evie's gaze is filtered by a maternal color that matches that selflessness at every turn. "There are levels to unhappiness and discomfort that people are willing to experience for someone they love. But I will always - or, always try - to clarify what it is you're asking beforehand." There's a cheeky wink aimed his way to seal the promise while ending on a positive note.

Her heart makes a sound like a ningo squeezed by a farmhand over Amhran's sugar-sweet admission. Her hand lingers, still squeezing his firmly. Blue eyes rooted to Amhran's like the prolonged contact might allow him to gauge the depths of her sentimentality. "I would too," she agrees softly, smile slow like the sunrise. These parts are harder sometimes; losing out on the natural process of memory-making over childhood years. She still wouldn't trade them for anything.

Grinning at the sound from his stomach, Evie tilts her head toward the door. "I think it does. Let's go wash up and we'll see what we can whip together." And if she brings him into a lanky hug before they make it to the door, it's a sentimental delay that the greenhouse panes will keep between the two of them.

- Fin

I can wait for you at the bottom, wait years if I gotta
Heaven knows I ain't getting over you