The Language of Love
Ùisdean trotted along the narrow passage, the faint glow of his gems providing all the light he needed to find his way.
Six months. He had begun this project over six months ago. He'd been to the library for his monthly visit with his daughter the week before he had started, and she had shown him an antique spellbook Itarilde had given her permission to read. Inside had been a long forgotten incantation for how to grow and shape gemstones. And with that...he'd had an idea.
It was expected that a stallion that wished to court a mare would bring her a gemstone plant of some sort. Most used flowers. There were sellers that scoured the caverns for naturally occurring flower outcroppings, but those were expensive and...impersonal. Plus none of them carried anything like what he was looking for. He wanted to make a statement.
A month and a half to find a location that held the gems he was looking for. Three months to sing the growths from the rock. Two more to coax them into the desired shapes and arrangement.
And now he could finally harvest.
The corridor eventually opened up into a small cavern. Striking a match, he lit the pair of candles squirreled away on a ledge. Folding his legs, he laid next to the sheet covering the results of his hard work. He lifted the flap on his carry bag and withdrew a borrowed set of excavation tools.
Light danced across the planes of the sapphires as he dug into the rock around and below the 'plants'. Djun paused every so often to pour concentrated lemon juice and vinegar on the limestone to soften and dissolve the majority of material trapping the roots. Slowly but surely, the rock gave up its prize.
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Four hours later, he was finished.
Gingerly lifting the clump from the ground, he tucked strips of linen in every nook and cranny he could. The trip back and forth was not the easiest, and if the precious cluster were to be damaged... He would just have to do his best to keep that from happening.
The stallion settled the bundle atop the tools in his bag, then shifted the bag to rest across his withers. It would be protected there.
Blowing out and collecting the candles, he started on his way back home for the finishing touches.
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Gem cluster? Check.
Glass gravel? Check.
Silver pot? Check.
Perfume? Check.
It seemed that everything was ready.
Lifting the bundle from the vinegar bath, he checked to make sure the last bit of limestone had dissolved. Not finding any, he swished the 'roots' in a water rinse to remove the acid. It wouldn't hurt anything (it would actually polish the silver a bit), but he didn't want his offering smelling like anything but the citrus fragrance his chosen preferred.
Resting the grouping on a towel, he carefully dried every inch he could before laying it on its side. Shifting the entire thing to his left, he snagged the pot and placed it squarely in front of him. Several scoopfuls of well-tumbled glass cullet slowly tumbled into the bottom to spill across in an uneven layer. Nodding in approval at the multi-colored gravel, he picked up the 'plant' cluster and nestled it into the bottom layer. More gravel was poured in to support and pack in everything so it was able to stand on its own.
Giving it a light shake to make sure everything settled, Ùisdean took a step back to admire his handiwork. He may have babied it every day for the last month to make sure it came out perfect, but the addition of the pot changed the silhouette slightly. For the better, in his opinion. A quick spritz of perfume over the glass rocks… and it was done.
A landscape in miniature sat before him. A hexad of miniature rose bushes, a quartet of birch trees, and in the middle...a single dawn redwood. Roses for romance, birch for stability and new beginnings, and redwood for longevity and communication.
He really wanted this relationship to succeed.
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He waited for her in her office backstage.
5 minutes passed. Then 10.
15...
30...
Djun glanced ruefully at the candle guttering on the desk. She was usually in by now. Perhaps one of the stagehands had snagged her? He shrugged, and made himself comfortable on the floor.
Another 5 minutes, and he fell into daydreaming.
The door opened unnoticed, and Reesa stepped into the room. Bemusement scrawled itself across her face.
"Djunnie?"
Ùisdean's eyes flew open and he froze.
"I'll admit that this isn't the strangest thing I've caught you doing, but you do have to admit that it's a little unusual..."
"Reesa! Hi, uh... Hello Reesa. Uh...Hi?"
"Hi." She giggled and closed the door. "What's up?"
"I, uhhh....ahem I have something for you." He nosed the pot out from behind her desk and pushed it forward. The light gleamed over the many varieties of sapphires he had called forth to create the landscape, the fifty roses a beautiful orangey-peach contrast to the greens, browns, and silvers behind. "I know it's not exactly a traditional gift, but I thought you'd appreciate something a little out of the ordinary..." The stallion trailed off as her silence stretched longer.
After a full minute, he drooped. "I'm sorry... I must have misread what was between us and I-"
He was cut off as she darted forward and pressed her muzzle to his. "I accept."
His ears flopped comically as he tried to process what was happening. "Huh?"
"I accept, you big goofball. I love it!!"
His entire demeanor perked up. "Really?"
She draped herself over his back and sighed dramatically. "The villain has finally succeeded in truly capturing the damsel. You'll be forced to carry me off to your lair and keep me forever."
He twisted his neck to look at her fully. "Just so you know," Djun told her, perfectly serious, "a villain does not easily give up the prize that he has legitimately won."
The mare nibbled his cheek. "And if the damsel is just as fierce in defending what she has claimed?"
He finally broke into a brilliant smile.
"Then I'd say I have a lair to drag you off to..."