Flower Crowns
Death doesn’t know how he got into this mess. His son, his precious little boy, was being incredibly stubborn. All he wanted was for his child to be safe and protected, but his son was straight up refusing to go to the elves. He had tried everything to convince his precious son to go to any, literally any, elven settlement and yet nothing worked. His son had been adamant that he and the animals were all he needed. He had tried pointing out several problems with his son’s plan, like him not being able to interact with his child outside of his son’s dreams or the fact that elven souls were known to fade if they didn’t have attachments. But his stubborn child had argued that he, his Adar, was an attachment and the combat he learned was all the protection he needed. Death highly disagreed with that, but his child didn’t budge.
To say that Death was exasperated and at the end of his wits would be an understatement. None of the advice he had gotten had ever prepared him for this. He was dangerously close to simply shadow teleporting his little one into an elven settlement, but he knew that if his son didn’t want to be there then he wouldn’t stay. His son had practically made a profession out of escaping, and he didn’t doubt for a second that the moment his son didn’t want to be somewhere then he wouldn’t be there. And there was nothing that the elves could do to stop him.
No, his son had to agree to being looked after, which on its own seemed like a difficult task. But he also had to agree to not leave the elves, which was a near impossible task.
He understood his child’s need for freedom, having been trapped in a house. His child wasn’t allowed to go outside or play with anyone, he was alone and bored for most of the day. That was why he had learned how to pick locks and escape from any room. He understood that his child hated confinement with a near compulsive force.
He understood, and he knew, but that didn’t stop his fear from growing with every passing moment his child was on his own. He had blessed every single animal companion who was with his child but that didn’t mean he was safe with them. Something could happen, the companions could be separated from his child or they could be hurt.
He needed his son in an elven settlement. He couldn’t stand the thought of his son being alone and in pain. He would get his child to an elven settlement even if he had to be sneaky about it.
It was a father’s responsibility to keep his son from harm, after all.
——-
Estîç loved the wilderness. The sound of the birds chirping in the trees and the soft trickle of a nearby stream. The trees provide shade and sanctuary for hunting trips. The sun gave warmth and light as it passed through the sky.
The horse, who he had named Luna after a friend he can’t remember but his Adar assures him he had, is fast and reliable. She never grows tired and never falters. His father says that he created her to be able to survive nearly anything and follow commands, no matter the language he speaks.
He trusts her guidance and rarely leads her from the path she wishes to take. He has no places to go and all the time in the world. Sometimes he will take off her saddle and rest with his back pressed against her neck, her trot is ever steady and he never falls.
The snake usually wraps itself around his wrist or the horse's saddle. He enjoys his conversations with his tree walker hatchling. He even accepts the idea of being given a name although he vetoes all the name suggestions that Estîç makes.
Hedwig flies alongside him as he travels; her large white wings only flapping occasionally as she glides on currents. She looks for danger from the sky and returns with news that she shares with Luna through a language that Estîç will never understand. When she is not looking for danger, she is helping Sirius in his search for food.
The wolf, Sirius, is always right behind him. The wolf is more like an oversized puppy than a wolf. He is always trotting alongside Luna with his tongue lolling out and the goofiest doggy grin. The dog is a gentle giant with his near grizzly bear size and energetic demeanor. His fur is soft and inky black and his eyes are a pale silver color.
On the second day of their journey Sirius finds a field of flowers. They are nothing more than wildflowers, but it is more beautiful than anything that Estîç had ever seen before.
Estîç had scrambled off of Luna’s back the moment he spotted the flower field, very nearly falling off the trotting animal. The feeling of his feet sinking into the ground beneath him still brings him immense joy. The thought that he will never have to meticulously clean his feet just to be able to go outside is a concept that he is still getting used to but he is gladly embracing.
Estîç runs to the flower field with the innocent joy of a child. Pure and beautiful laughter bursts from his rose tinted lips and fills the air with joy. The moment he is reaching the edge of the flower field he is collapsing into the colorful flowers.
Estîç had never seen a flower field in person before, he had only ever seen them in his dream trips with his Adar.
—-
A year prior
The field of beautiful white and cheerful yellow flowers had been nestled near a village of man. The village had a tradition of bringing flower crowns to lovers and loved ones. He and his Adar had watched the men weave their crowns and give them to their loved ones. He had tried to weave a flower crown too, but his slightly translucent hands had simply gone right through the flowers he tried to pluck.
He couldn’t do anything when he was dreaming, couldn’t feel the dirt between his feet, interact with anything, nor be seen or otherwise perceived. He was simply a spectator watching and listening but never anything more. He hadn’t minded before, in fact it had been kind of useful, but at that moment he had despised his inability to interact with the world outside of the in between.
That day he had hated his mother for not allowing him to see the flowers, and then he had felt horrible for ever having bad thoughts about the person who had raised him.
He had spent days weaving long grass into crowns until he could make one that looked decent enough and hadn’t fallen apart easily. And then, when he was confident in his plant made crown crafting abilities, he went on his search for flowers.
He searched from the moment his mother left to an hour before she was to return. He had scoured the entirety of the forest and hadn’t found a single flower.
After dinner that night he had cried silently to himself, as he mourned the inability to make his flower crown. He will meet his Adar that night with empty sad eyes.
All he had wanted was to give his Adar a flower crown, was that so bad?
—-
Now with every flower he could possibly imagine right under the pads of his fingertips he knew exactly what he wanted to do. Sirius trotted behind him as he darted from place to place gathering flowers. Hedwig lands on a tree branch nearby and peers down at him in curiosity. He notices her out of the corner of his eye and looks up. He smiles before lifting the flowering branch of lavender up to her to see, but before the flower could make it anywhere near Hedwig; Sirius appeared from behind him and ate the lavender in one bite.
Everyone was surprised for a moment, except for Sirius himself who was instead really pleased with himself. And then that moment was over, and Hedwig was screeching to life at the indignity that was this dog that ate the flower before she could properly look at it. Before Sirius knew it he was being chased around the flower field by a very angry ball of scratching claws, feathers and chaos.
Estîç laughs as he watches them run around the field. His magic weaves through his laughter and causes more flowers to bloom in the flower field. Estîç doesn’t notice the extra flowers but Death does and he feels worry creep up his heart. Someone might notice his elflings magic if it becomes too strong, he has been able to untracked before but if it got too strong then he wouldn’t be able to do it again.
Estîç eyed the flowers around him before he picked out a few more flowers that would look good on his Adar. An hour later he had a perfect red and purple flower crown. He looked up at his companions who had settled down a while ago. Sirius was laying in a patch of wild cornflowers and the snake lay sunbathing on his back. Luna was grazing near the edge of the forest and Hedwig sat in an apple tree that was in the middle of the field.
Estîç paused for a moment before he began looking for more flowers.
By nightfall a ring of flowers will be hung around Hedwig's neck, the lavender, sage flowers, Athelas flowers and white wildflowers complemented her snow white plumage. Luna’s hair will be carefully braided with lavender, sage and blue and purple cornflowers. Several ringlets of Mallos flowers, Elanor flowers and dandelions were carefully braided around the snake’s body so that he could move uninterrupted. Sirius wore a necklace of multicolored cornflowers, Mallos flowers, poppies, dandelions and elanor flowers, as he ate the dinner he had hunted.
That night he goes to sleep in the branch of the apple tree. Sirius lays at the base of the tree to keep guard, and Hedwig keeps watch from the branches. Luna sleeps beside Sirius and the snake curls into Estîç’s side as he sleeps. A dark green cloak, that he had found in the satchel, helps pad the branches and keeps him warm through the night.
Clutched in his hands is a purple and red flower crown.
—-
The sight of his unconscious body is still unnerving. He takes great care not to touch his body lest he wake up. He sets the flower crown around his neck as he scrambles to climb down the tree. The forest is dark and yet it is still very much alive and beautiful. He spots his Adar near some poppies and he runs towards him.
His father turns around to look at him and he lifts the crown of wild lavender, sage flowers, purple snapdragons, poppies and red wild roses, up to his dad. For a moment his father simply looks at him, eyes wide with pure bewilderment. Then his dads eyes fill with happiness and a giddy smile grows upon the face of the deity feared by many. The entity reaches out for the crown, but the moment the god of death is even slightly close the flowers begin to wither away.
Sadness and hurt flashes across his dad’s face for only a moment before it is masked with the indifference that death always wears with his siblings, never with his son he always wants his son to see him at his best.
Estîç looked down at his flower crown, eyes wide and brimming with tears. His Adar couldn’t have his flower crown.
He clutches the flower crown in his slightly chubby hands and he wishes. He wishes with all his strength that his dad could take the flower crown, and as he wills it his flower crown shifts. Until he wasn’t holding a flower crown made of flowers but a flower crown made out of colored glass.
Estîç opens his eyes when the cold of the glass reaches his saddened mind. He looks down at the crown of glass made flowers and he blinks in confusion. The glass was smooth and flawless under the pads of his fingers. He looks down at the crown that he had spent time carefully crafting. A third of the flowers were wilted beyond salvation, their beautiful colors now a deadened black. He should make another one, but the thought of getting rid of something he had spent hours on left a bitter taste in his mouth.
His father knelt down in front of him, eyes leveled with his own. He reached gently hands out to lift the glass flower crown out of his hands. The blackened glass flowers made his Adar’s skin look washed out. He went to protest, to say that he will make another flower crown, but his dad just smiled at him before placing the glass crown on his head. The wilted flowers were in full display as they sat in the front of the crown, and yet his dad simply smiled. It was as if he were saying that he didn’t care about the mistakes so long as he was the one who made it.
His father smiles at him, his eyes are full of a warm fondness that makes his insides feel fuzzy. His father reached out his hand as if he were going to ruffle his hair before stopping the movement of his hand. He watched in amazement as little tendrils of wispy black smoke rose from his father’s cloak, before weaving themselves together under his father’s palm. And then those tendrils burst with color as they became intricately carved deep green emerald vines, which began spouting realistically carved emerald leaves and delicate Simbelmynë flowers with petals as thin as cloth and as beautiful as the Arkenstone. The flower's petals glowed with an otherworldly beauty and gave off an aura of warm protection. The middle of every Simbelmynë flower was filled with gold to mimic the flower's center. The flower crown was entirely made up of precious stones, from the intricate carved emerald stems to the arkenstone-like petals.
His father gently placed the crown of carved flowers upon his inky black hair.
His face hurt with how hard he was smiling. He was very happy about the crown of flowers that rested on his head.
—-
The moment he was awake he was running from animal to animal as he showed off his new crown. He happily ate the food in the satchel for breakfast and climbed on Luna with wide eyes and a happy smile lighting up his face. By that afternoon every single one of his animal companions were sick of hearing him gush over his flower crown.
It was approaching nightfall when something in the distance made Sirius perk up. Estîç turned his head and squinted his eyes in order to see them.
An elven patrol was off in the distance. They were coming towards them.
Fear wrapped around his chest and squeezed. What if they saw him? What if they killed him? Or worse, took him in? Dad had told him how protective the elves were, how precious children were for them. What if they locked him up in a house, and never let him out? He would be trapped and alone. He didn’t want to go back to those empty rooms and the constantly locked doors, with his only comfort being the dreams where he saw his Adar or the few snippets of conversation he had with his mother.
He would be stuck in that cold dark place, alone, forever. He would never touch the green grass or run his fingers under the river. Never feel the rain kiss his cheeks or climb a tree and rest in its comforting embrace. He felt his chest rapidly expanding and contracting.
His magic coiled around him in a desperate attempt at self soothing. In another life his magic would have turned into a violent beast, biting and clawing anything near, but in this life it does the opposite. It shrinks in on itself, wrapping its ward in a thick blanket of protection. The magic grants the one wish that the child had at that moment: to be unseen and unnoticed.
The elves' eyes slide right over the little group, eyes glazing over when they look directly at them. They feel a strong compulsion to leave and look no further. They hesitate for a few minutes before the patrol passes through and the elves are gone.
The child does not notice their absence. All he can think about is how fast his breath is coming. His mind is a spiraling cloud of worry and anxiety. Worries and fears flash like lightning and move as fast as rain. He squeezes his eyes closed as he tries desperately to take in a deep breath.
He can’t breathe. Why can’t he breathe? Maybe his moms hands are still around his neck? Maybe his adventure had simply been a dream adventure instead of a real one. If that was true then, He was still trapped in that suffocating house where every move he made was watched. If he hummed or made noise then he would be in trouble. He didn’t want to be in trouble, mommy always made being in trouble hurt really bad. He can’t make any noise, he can’t be a bad boy, he doesn’t want to make his mommy angry.
He can’t breathe, but gasping for air made noise and he can’t be loud. He stops trying to breathe, stops gasping for air. He feels as his head gets light and blackness creeps into his vision. He lets his head fall onto Luna’s back as he loses consciousness from lack of oxygen.
——
…maybe this wasn’t the best solution. Death stood next to his child, unseen behind the veil, and watched with great concern and worry as his little son hid from the elven patrol. He had been subtly guiding Luna closer and closer to Mirkwood and the elves that resided there.
But now, as he watched his little light hide from his kin, he realized that he might have been presumptive in his approach.
Clearly his son was far more traumatized by his mother’s actions than he had anticipated. He needed to fix this, or at the very least make sure he trusts at least one living person, preferably an elf.
He was absolutely out of his depth here. Yes, he dealt with tons of traumatized souls for centuries, but he didn’t particularly care enough about them to actually want to help. He knew how to handle traumatized souls, not how to deal with trauma. But that didn’t matter because he would help his son overcome his fear of trusting again, even if it took years. It was a father’s responsibility to help their child, after all.
But first he had to comfort his child.
His child who was in the land of the living. His child couldn't see, hear or feel him through the veil that separated the living and the dead. His precious son wasn't responding to any of the animals he had sent to comfort him.
Desperation and helplessness clawed through him. What kind of father was he when he couldn’t even help his son with a panic attack? When he couldn’t be with him when he needed it the most? He was useless.
The moment his little light is passed out, he pulls his soul through the veil and into his domain. He clutches his son close to his chest, cloak wrapped around his child like a blanket. His son’s shoulders shook with sorrow and tears. His child cried but he didn’t make a sound, for the noises he would make had been too elven for his mom to tolerate, and beaten out of him as Harry Potter. His son had never truly had anyone other than him to wipe his tears and promise safety.
His hands ran soothing circles on his little one’s back. He waits for his child’s sobs to come to a stop, all while soft promises and cooed reassurances slip past his lips.
When his child is finally finished crying he gathers him up in his cloak. He cradled his son to his chest, head resting against his collar and body shielded by his cloak. He stands up from the place where he knelt to comfort his child, bringing his child with him. He turns back to the horse, Luna, and watches as the unconscious body of his son was carried carefully on the horse's back.
He began walking, every step of his bare feet brought him farther and farther away from the elven village, from his little one's kin. The veil muffled his presence, and yet the touch of his skin still felt like death to those on the living plain. His son lay motionless in his arms as his animal companions, and his son's unconscious body, followed behind him. They walked in quietness for a while, with nothing but the slightest sound of the animals footsteps. And then that silence was broken by the hoarse voice of his son, “ If I was lost would you look for me?”
He was quiet for a moment as he looked out over the horizon; footsteps silent as the dead as he continued walking. Should he tell his son the truth? That if he were ever lost he would scour all of existence to get him back. The deity looked down at his son. His precious little boy was looking up at him with big emerald green eyes, they shone with hope, and yet were clouded by insecurity and doubt.
He met his son's eyes before he answered: “I would search every universe and every dimension. I would never stop looking until you were found.”
His son was silent after his answer, but he could tell by the tension in the air that his precious son wanted to ask another question, yet didn’t have the courage to speak. He didn’t force his son to ask his question, for he had all the time in the world to wait for his son to build up the courage to ask.
He began humming, not an elven song or a song from any living plain. He was humming the melody of death, the song that all beings know in the depths of their soul. He had used it more than once to calm down distressed souls enough to talk to them and lead them onto their final resting place.
After several long moments of soft humming his little son asked the question that had been pledging his mind: “What if the elves take me and never give me back? What if you find me but can’t reach me because someone is keeping me locked up?”
Death was silent for a moment. He had never wanted this; had never felt more sad and unsure. Because how did he answer that? How did he convince his child that his own kin, the people who would never even think of harming him, were safe? How did he combat two years worth of paranoia and pain?
The Deity looked out upon the forest that surrounded them. His skeletal hands clutched his child closer to his chest, as if his child could be protected from the world by his very presence. But the deity couldn’t protect his son from his own mind, not without losing the very thing that he coveted and loved.
Death looked down at his child, and waited patiently for his son to meet his eyes. It was only when his son was finally looking into his eyes and their gazes were locked when he started to speak.
“I would destroy existence itself if it meant that you would stay by my side. I would obliterate universes if it would make you happy and wipe out worlds if it would ease your mind,” Death said in a tone that sounded more like a vow than a statement. He allowed his son to see the true depths of his sincerity in his eyes.
His son was silent for a moment as he processed the true devotion of his father. The truest devotion of a parent. Then the father and son lapsed into silence once more.
“You won’t leave me, will you?” His son asked with the desperation of a child who had been abandoned more times than he could bear. “I will stay by your side until the end of time itself,” Death promises his son.
The cold wind blew, nipping the noses of Death and his son. Night was approaching, bringing with it darkness that promised untold paths to take. The lone figure of death continued to wander through the forest, traveling further and further away from the forests of greenwood.
Death made a promise to himself on that night. He promised that no matter what path his son walked he would never be alone. A soul had once told him that a parent should be willing to walk on burning coals for their children. He hadn’t understood it at the time. Why would a parent walk on burning coal when they could just walk a different path? Now as he looked at his son, at the path he would have to walk, he understood. Death would walk any path as long as his child’s hand was interlocked with his own.
Death walked on through the unsure darkness and the many unknown paths. He could weather the storm for his son. He would weather any danger for his son.