A Crown of Real Flowers
It had been nearly a month since Percival had met that boy in the woods. Every so often he would cross his mind. When he went back into the clearing in the woods, when he was in the village and spotted a bit of light green fabric, and sometimes even randomly.
He had decided that day that he shall hate the boy but now he was asking himself if he really did. Perhaps the boy just had odd mannerisms. Like Mr. Ficklesworth, the bard from the village near their house. He had some strange customs that seemed to come from nowhere. If he weren’t a faun like Percival he would assume it was cultural differences.
But enough about Mr. FIcklesworth! This isn’t his story. Percival was still going foraging alone every week for his mother. He had made sure he never got distracted as he had before. The last thing he wanted was for his family to think he couldn’t do the simple task of foraging. He always went on a Thursday. He liked the routine of it. Every other day of the week he could be helping his brothers in the field, going into the village, watching his younger siblings but he knew exactly what he was to do on Thursdays.
He’d grab the same things he always did and started his journey in the same forest. He enjoyed the sameness of all of it. It made him feel safe. And today was such a beautiful day out. Charles had told him it would be the last day like this until spring came again so he was going to enjoy every second of it.
The forest was calmer than normal but it didn’t feel unusual. It felt serene and peaceful like all the animals and plants knew it was the last days of summer. Percival wanted nothing more to explore it but he knew he had to stick to the trails and the foraging spots. He didn’t want anyone worrying about him. But this time his mother only wanted him to get berries. Perhaps he would have time to explore just a bit.
Once again, he found himself in the clearing. He knew that blackberries grew wild just on the edge of the clearing. Should be easy enough to get. He took off his cloak and his satchel and went to work picking.
He didn’t particularly enjoy picking blackberries. They were a pain to get for you had to reach into the bush to pick the best ones. That meant getting pricked by the thorns about one hundred times. His hands were already scarred from how much he had done it over the years. But he didn’t whine. I was just a blackberry thorn there are much worse things to be annoyed by.
He had filled up about half of his bucket before he heard a distinct rustling in the trees. He huffed at this. For once he had hoped the wind spirits would leave the forest alone. But here they were causing problems and disturbing the calmness of the day. Percival thought he had ought to be used to them by now, but they filled him with so much rage a simple rustling of leaves could ruin his day.
But he couldn’t let them know they got to him so he continued to pick berries until the basket was full. Surprisingly, there hadn’t been another disturbance in the forest. He smiled peacefully. He looked at the sun and saw it was only about 10 in the afternoon. This was absolutely perfect. Almost too perfect.
He went down to the stream where he met the boy a month ago and sat down. He placed the basket against a tree, making sure the wind couldn’t knock it down. He let the water run across his feet and finally relaxed. But to his dismay, it was soon to be interrupted.
A few minutes after he had started relaxing by the creek, he felt a strange weight on his head. He opened one eye to see an ivy leaf hanging over it. He reached to grab whatever was put on his head. He had assumed it was just something from a tree that blew over onto his head put to his surprise it was a flower crown.
Now he was even more confused. He picked it up from his head to look at it. The flowers alternated between green carnations, green gerbera daisies, purple dahlias, and purple foxglove which were woven onto a bed of ivy. He had seen flower crowns before. The girls in the village had them often to give to boys they liked but they always used wildflowers from the forest. They didn’t look anything like this one.
Whilst he was pondering where this crown could’ve come from, he felt a sudden presence next to him. He cautiously turned his head to see the boy from the month before sitting next to him. Percival was frightened of course. He let out a yelp and tried to get away from him. This attempt only naturally resulted in him falling straight into the creek.
The boy was of course embarrassed by this. He didn’t mean to scare him. He rushed over to help him at once. Percival grabbed the boy's hand and lifted himself out of the creek.
“You should be more careful when greeting people.” Percival took off his now drenched cloak and set it on a log. “I am incredibly sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” “It’s alright but please don’t make a habit out of scaring people.” He sat down in his previous spot.
“I find it quite amusing how I seem to always find you in a quarrel with the creek.” the boy sat down right beside him. “I and the creek get along quite well when you’re not around.” Percival scoffed as he moved wet curls out of his face. “I suppose you’re the one that made the flower crown.” The boy beamed with pride.
“Yes. In fact, I spent all of yesterday in the garden trying to find the perfect flowers for it.” Percival picked it back up again examining it. “So I assume you think these are real flowers as compared to the lowly cornflower.” The boy shrugged at this. “You said you didn’t have money for flowers so I thought I’d give you some.”
He set the crown back down next to his other things. “Well, thank you for the crown.” He smiled at the boy. His attire had changed from the previous encounter. His pants were now a marvelous shade of dark blue instead of the previous light green and he donned a cloak made out of a green tartan. They sat in still and peaceful silence for a while. Percival could feel the sun dry his hair, his skin, and his shirt. It pained him to admit that he enjoyed relaxing with someone compared to relaxing alone.
An hour must've passed before the boy spoke again. “I don’t believe you’ve ever told me your name.” “As if I would be dumb enough to give a random stranger my name.” Percival scoffed. His parents and brothers had told him many times to not give away his name to people. You never know whose intentions are pure and who's trying to manipulate you.
“I did not ask you to give me your name I only asked for you to tell me it so I have something to call you.” The boy said, crossing his arms. “How do I know I can trust you?” “It can be a nickname if you like.” Percival thought about this for a while. It was extremely foolish to tell anyone you barely know your name. If his family knew he was even considering telling it to a boy he met twice in the woods they would most certainly reprimand him.
“If I tell you mine will you tell me yours?” Percival asked, crossing his arms as well. “Deal.” The boy had a huge grin on his face. He let out a huge sigh and said “I can tell you my name is Percy.” He said, extending his hand. “And I can tell you my name is Ollie.” He reached out and shook Percival’s hand.
“Well, I must be getting back home before it gets too late,” Percival said while getting up to gather his things. Luckily his cloak was now dry from the sun. He put it back on and grabbed his satchel and the basket full of berries. He waved goodbye and started walking away. He didn’t get very far before he was stopped.
“Wait!” Oliver yelled causing Percival to turn around. “You forgot your flower crown, Percy.” He said holding it. Percival bent down a little, allowing him to put it on his head. It sat askew but Percival didn’t mind. “There. Pretty flowers for a pretty boy.” He looked up at him with a slight blush. No one had ever called him pretty before.
They stood there for a while just staring at each other before Percival said something. “If you wish to meet with me again, my mum usually sends me foraging on Thursdays. I suspect you can find your way home without me.” The boy nodded in response. “I expect to find you here on Thursday, Percy.” “And I’ll be waiting for you, Ollie.”
They both parted ways. Heading to their respective homes. Percival couldn’t seem to get Oliver’s words out of his mind. ‘Pretty flowers for a pretty boy’. He had to admit that the flowers were a great deal pretty but did Oliver really think he was pretty? But there was no time to dwell on it.
He knew he had to hide the crown before he got home. The last thing he wanted was his family interrogating and lecturing him. He wasn’t very fond of the idea of them finding out about his new friend. He put the crown in his empty satchel and headed the rest of the way home.
Once he got home, he greeted his family, gave the basket of berries to his mother, and hurried off to his room. He opened the satchel and took out the crown. He couldn’t help but admire the beauty of it. It wasn’t just the flowers but the fact that someone made it just for him. Never had he gotten anything that was just for him. He put it into a box under his bed to make sure no one besides him would ever find it. He had decided it was his and his alone.