Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sylvan stood from his beautiful lilac bush that grew happily in his warm cozy greenhouse. The purple flowers sat in a bunch and smiled up at him. The Royal owl smiled back, caressing the tiny flowers in the palm of his hand. He had been paying extra attention to these flowers this year, watching how they grew and bloomed, for he had a much larger project out back that related to a relative of the common lilac.

Looking around his wonderful greenhouse, Sylvan enjoyed the warmth. It was the only place in the ice palace that he could be without having to layer up. As he walked to the exit, he admired each colorful flower and bright leaf he passed. Each one was as healthy and happy as the next, showing just how skilled he was as a botanist.

Once at the exit, Sylvan layered himself up. First a sweater, then a jacket, and finally a thick fuzzy robe. Each piece of clothing was as soft, thick, and cozy as the next. All were necessary so that his feathers didn’t freeze in the ice palace he called home. With one last look at his beautiful greenhouse, he walked into the icy halls.

The palace itself was as frigid as his husband, the icy royal peacock. Andrealphus was the antithesis of warmth most days. The walls of the palace were made of beautiful glittering ice that sparked wonderfully when the sun was out. Though they looked delicate, not even the strongest of winds could blow them down. A true testament to his husband’s powers. Not only were the walls made of ice, but the furniture was also sculpted from ice as well. Every corner of the palace was a perpetual winter wonderland, except for Sylvan’s little greenhouse for he too had his duties to carry on with.

The halls of the palace were quiet today. Andrealphus was off attending to his royal duties while their daughter, Primrose, was busy at this time with her studies. Both were likely to be back home late afternoon so Sylvan still had time to tend to his private projects. Enjoying the tranquil quiet of the palace, he made his way to the back door.

Outside the palace was just as icy and cold as the inside of the palace. Mounds of snow and blocks of ice lined the paths around it. Sylvan walked quickly around to the back of the palace, past the patios and gazebos set up with their icy chairs and tables, to a small pocket of land that was fenced off. He smiled upon seeing it for this was also his own little patch of garden similar to the greenhouse. This patch of garden was set aside for the few plants that thrived in the cold.

An evergreen tree stood proud and tall in the center of the garden. A small patch to the left was home to a winter spinach patch and to its left was a patch of winter kale. Cold-weather plants were not nearly as plentiful as the warmer-weather varieties. Many of them were difficult to upkeep, even if your husband was capable of turning any space into an ice box. The kale and spinach were hearty plants, though, and grew rather easily. It was the bushes around to the other side of the tree that had been giving Sylvan trouble.

Sylvan checked on each patch of plants one at a time until he came upon the icy snowflake lilac bush. It stood behind the evergreen three rather innocently and looking a little shabby and worse for wear. Sylvan frowned at the sight of the little shrub. Quickly, he walked over to it, bent down, and inspected its buds.

The icy winter lilac was related to the common lilac he so easily grew in his greenhouse. Sylvan thought growing common lilac might help him succeed in blooming the little shrub right in front of him. Though the two were both lilacs, the common lilac had done very little to show Sylvan what was keeping the icy plan from blooming. While the common lilac had been grown in captivity for centuries now, the snowflake lilac hadn’t ever successfully bloomed in captivity.

The wonderful little plant was only ever found in the coldest iciest corners of Hell and despite the efforts of many, no one had ever been able to bloom it. If one wanted to see the delicate blue snowflake lilac, they’d have to trek days into the deep cold wilderness just to find the plant. The little flowers grew in such isolated pockets of the Hell that they knew very little about them and their growth cycle and any time the flower was brought back, if not kept completely cold, they would wilt away in the same a snowflake melts in the warmth. Once wilted, their magical properties weakened by more than half.

When Sylvan had first taken on the task of blooming this flower, he had assumed it would be a sinch. He lived in a snow palace, after all, where every day was as icy cold as the next. Wouldn’t it be the perfect place for such a flower to thrive? Well, that didn’t seem to be the case and he had no clue why. Still, he wasn’t ready to give up yet.

Not only was this meant to be his success in blooming the first-ever captive snowflake lilac, but it was also meant to act as Andrealphus’s birthday gift this year. Yes, Sylvan was sure he would be able to get the buds to bloom by his husband’s birthday, the only problem was that his birthday was just two days away and the buds were still as tight as ever. He could see it though, the light blue at the tips of the buds. They were ready to bloom but they just wouldn’t open. He had tried everything from ice baths, to the best fertilizer to Andrealphus dropping the temperature of the palace even more but none of it worked. Even his very own plant magic didn’t seem to be enough.

Though he had tried his best, Sylvan couldn’t help but feel a bit down about the lilac bush looking as sad as it was. With a heavy sigh, he asked, “Why won’t you bloom? What am I doing wrong? You’ve grown so well up to this point. Why hesitate now?” He gently caressed the largest bushel of buds as he spoke, making sure not to be too rough with them.

While he could sit here all day fusing over the flowers, he hadn’t a clue what they needed to bloom. This environment couldn’t be that far different from their wild one, right? It was as cold as the dead of winter, so cold, one could pour boiling water from a kettle and it would turn to ice in an instant. Sylvan was sure that was the sort of environment they needed. Though discouraged, he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel yet. There was still time. All he needed to do was a bit more research. Yes, he was sure he’d find an answer soon. With that, he gathered himself and headed back into the palace.

“Though this flower is rare and hard to keep once picked, the Snowflake Lilac is useful in a number of freezy potion recipes. Most notably, it is the star ingredient in Frozen Frostbite. Just one drop of the position can turn any demon into a statue of ice,” Vassago read from an old potions book he had found on the library shelf. “Oh my, that sounds absolutely horrible,” he shivered, looking over the book at Sylvan.

Presently, Sylvan sat in a large armchair surrounded by books. This wasn’t the first time he had asked Vassago to help him research more about the snowflake lilac. In fact, this was the third time this month he had called on the other royal to help him dig through books about the flower. The problem was, there just wasn’t that much information on it available.

“Yes, it is supposedly a very powerful flower as well as beautiful,” Sylvan replied, his eyes glued to the book he was presently reading from, 12,000 Wild Plants and Herbs of Hell. The section on the snowflake lilac was only a fourth of a page and mainly spoke about how it looked and its use in potions.

“Sound like just the thing Andrealphus would want,” Vassago replied, putting the book down in his pile of already-read books. “And why haven’t you asked him anything about this flower, Cariño?” he asked before picking up the next book.

“I already told you, it’s meant to be a surprise. Andrealphus doesn’t even know I have been growing one,” Sylvan sighed, closing his book and placing it on the side table. “I mean, at least I don’t think he knows I’ve been growing one,” he added, rubbing the bridge of his beak. His eyes had become weary from all the reading.

“Well, you could still ask him about it,” Vassago said, picking up the next book at random. “Just make it casual, you know. Like, ‘Hey, do you know about the Ice Lilac thing? Do you know how they bloom?’ or something like that,” he said, putting on his best Sylvan voice. As he spoke he flipped around the book in his hand and batted his eyes.

Sylvan smiled and stifled a snicker. “Was that supposed to be me? That was the worst impression I’ve ever seen,” he giggled, unable to stop the laugh that left him.

“Hey, I never said I was an actor,” Vassago replied, feigning insult. “I was just trying to help.”

Sylvan still smiled softly and said, “I know and I really appreciate all the help you’ve given me so far. It’s just that Andrealphus has always been sharp, you know.” He sighed, looking down at his lap. “If I brought up the flower to him he would surely ask if I wanted to grow one and you know I am a bad liar.”

Vassago saw the worry in his love’s eyes and quickly made his way to his side. “Come on now, cariño, you’re an average liar at worst,” he half-reassured half-joked, squeezing himself to sit on the sofa beside Sylvan. He snuggled up closer to his lover so that they had to link arms.

Sylvan leaned himself into Vassago, enjoying the show of affection. He placed his head on the royal parrot’s shoulder and relaxed for a moment. A small smile worked its way onto his beak. “You’re silly,” he said, his words full of affection. A very happy coo left Sylvan when Vassago nuzzled the top of his fluffy head.

Vassago’s eyes wandered to the pile of unread books beside Sylvan. He reached out and pulled the largest of the books. Using his finding magic, he located the page that talked about the snowflake lilac. He scanned the page before reading aloud, “The snowflake lilac blooms is the most frigid snowy depths of Hell. These corners of wilderness are pounded by unyielding freezing winds in the winter that make it almost impossible for any reasonable demon to venture into them. Only a few stubborn souls have seen them bloom in person.” Not really one for the cold, Vassago made a face at the page. “Rayos, these little flowers really seem to enjoy miserable weather. Maybe your flowers aren’t blooming because you’re babying them too much,” he teased in a very light-hearted way. He hugged Sylvan close to show he didn’t mean any harm by the comment.

“I’m not babying them,” Sylvan replied with a little giggle. “How does one even baby flowers.”

“I’ve seen the way you tend to your plants and you definitely baby them with the way you talk to them so gently and water them in just the right way,” Vassago teased, leaning into Sylvan affectionately.

Sylvan released a hoot-like giggle at the show of affection. “Well, my tender loving care hasn’t led me wrong yet. It’s worked on all my other flowers and has even worked on you,” he said before planting a peck on Vassago’s cheek.

The feathers on Vassago’s head stood in pleasure. He smiled at his love and replied, “I suppose it has worked very well for you, Cariño. And I will do all I can to help you get to the bottom of this mystery.”

Nuzzling their beaks, the two exchanged a loving cuddle which quickly turned into a kiss. Sylvan felt a flame of hope build in his chest. With Vassago firmly dedicated to the cause, he didn’t feel so alone. Sylvan knew Andrealphus would be pleased with any gift given to him by his husband but this flower would be more than just a simple gift. It would be a show of Sylvan’s deduction and care for the things that mattered to Andrealphus.

For the rest of the afternoon, the two lover birds snuggled up together on the plush armchair filing through book after book. While most presented them with the same information, Sylvan couldn’t help but feel like he was overlooking something. Like the missing piece of the puzzle was right in front of him but he just wasn’t seeing it. He was frustrated, for sure, but not ready to give in yet.

It was a long afternoon for Sylvan. Despite having the company of one of his loves, Vassago, he couldn’t help but feel like he had hit a dead end. Eventually, he came across a potion. One that was often used to promote the growth of other cold-blooming flowers that were much less finicky than the snowflake lilac but still required the dead cold to bloom. With the potion in hand, he headed back to the palace.

Once home, he got right to work. He only had a little time before Andrealphus and Primrose were due to come home. If he was caught mixing a position, which wasn’t something he did on the daily, he’d definitely be questioned by both. It would be best if he simply got it made before their arrival to avoid any questioning.

Sylvan made a beeline for the positions room. It wasn’t a place he spent much time in on the weekly but he was familiar enough with it. Getting right to work, he riffled through the ingredients for what he needed. While he and Andrealphus weren’t avid potion makers, they did keep a decent stock of ingredients, even ones hard to come by. A perk of being royal he supposed.

A bit of freshly fallen snow, not hard to come by in this palace, a sprig of winter thyme, and some dung of the snow elk were just a few items mixed onto a thick viscous potion. With an icy flame blazing, making the room colder instead of hotter, the potion bubbled like dry ice in water. Finally, the petal of the snowflake lilac. Perhaps a bit of the flower itself would help promote new flowers to bloom.

Sylvan looked at the vile holding the petals of the snowflake lilac. It only had one full flower left. He knew it would be a task for them to refill the vile if he were to use up this last one. This potion was known to work well with snowball hydrangeas, icicle wisteria, and even frosted lilies, all plants that were finicky to bloom as well. They required temperatures so cold that not even Sylvan’s coat would protect from the freeze but this potion would be able to freeze the soil around the plant to the perfect temperature to hopefully promote them to bloom. It simply had to be the missing link. Sure, Sylvan could ask Andrealphus to freeze the palace more but that would have been horribly suspicious.

The potion was a quick mix. It didn’t require a long simmer at all, fortunately. Once finished, he poured it into an icy bottle, which froze over the moment the liquid entered it. Then, quickly, he put all the items back in place so that it didn’t look like anyone had been in the position’s room. Looking at the frosted clock on the wall, he saw that his family was due to be home at any moment. He’d have to be quick and careful when sneaking outside.

The halls were quiet but Sylvan’s heart beat loudly. Of course, he had no clue if no one was home but he still worried about running into someone. He hadn’t heard the sound of any doors opening or any footsteps, other than the familiar pitter-patter of their imp staff. That was why when Sylvan rounded the final corner and ran beak first into a very Andrealphus size object he gave a very loud, “Oh!”

“Where are you going in such a hurry, Dear?” Andrealphus asked, not looking terribly suspicious of his spouse.

“Y-You’re home,” Sylvan gasped only to quickly purse his beak shut. “I-I mean, welcome home.” He smiled, hoping he didn’t look too suspicious. Behind his back, in a gloved hand, he held the potion.

Andrealphus lifted an eyebrow. Now it seemed the icy peacock’s suspicion was growing.

Thinking fast, Sylvan quickly planted a sweet kiss on the other royals cheek. This seemed to calm the other down real fast. “I missed you. It was doubly quiet here today with both of my favorite people gone,” he said, not shying away from getting close to the other. He knew he was a horrible liar so as long as Andrealphus didn’t ask him what he was up to he’d be in the clear. “Where is Primrose anyway?” he asked, looking about Andrealphus.

“She’s in the playroom with her nanny. I’m sure she’d be happy to see you,” Anrealphus said before kissing Sylvan himself, this time on the lips. “I know I missed you.”

Sylvan blushed and nuzzled his beak with his husband’s. While he wouldn’t have minded stretching this out longer most days, today time was of the essence. Once Andrealphus got settled, they’d both probably be spending the rest of the evening together anyway.

“Well I better not keep Primrose waiting,” Sylvan hummed, twirling around Andrealphus. He did his best to keep his hand behind himself in a inconspicuous way.

“I’ll be in the parlor shortly so don’t keep me waiting too long,” Andrealphus said, not stopping his husband from his mission.

Sylvan nodded and smiled. He then turned 180 degrees and headed off down the icy halls. His fluffy green hair bounded as he walked off towards the back door. Fortunately, Andrealphus didn’t follow after him.

The royal Owl headed straight for the exit. This shouldn’t take him too long really. Just a few drops on the roots and they either will or won’t bloom. He was both excited and scared at the same time. If this potion didn’t work then he simply didn’t know what he would do. He was clean out of ideas and he hadn’t prepared anything special for Andrealphus’s birthday tomorrow. This simply had to do the trick. It worked so many times with other icy plants after all.

Once at the little outdoor garden, he bent down to address the little bush. The bunches of lilac buds were still closed stubbornly tight. He cradled the largest bunch in his hand and whispered, “I have something special for you.”

The wind blew past Sylvan’s face. It was cold but didn’t hold that bitter sting of the sort of wind you would feel in the dead of winter. The branches of the bush swayed in the wind as if they were reaching out to it.

Sylvan held the bottle in his closed hand. Despite the thick warm glove, he could still feel its icy cold surface. Very carefully, so as to not spill a single drop on himself, he removed the cap. He leaned down to the roots and looked them over. “Just a drop should do the trick,’ he whispered.

Holding the bottle over the roots, he very carefully let the liquid drip from it. One drop here and another extra just in case over there and soon he was done. He watched in amazement as the ground below the bush froze over in a flash. The ice grew, reaching out for him. Perhaps two drops was too much after all. Scooting back a bit, Sylvan made sure to keep out of its path until the ice came to a stop just before the royal owl’s back hit the tall evergreen tree.

Sylvan looked to see that the ice had also climbed the stem of the bush. The leaves and buds were now covered in a frost. The plant didn’t seem to mind the ice at all. In fact, Sylvan could tell the frost we welcomed. Silently, he watched the little buds. He crept closer to get a better look at them. Making sure not to slip on the ice, he examined the plant.

The branched delicately waved in the wind once more but the buds remained shut. Sylvan waited a moment longer. Maybe they needed time for the cold to get to the buds.

“Come on, now, open. This is as cold as I’m going to be able to get it,” Sylvan practically begged the plant.

Still, the plant did not open. It merely reached its branched up towards the passing wind. Sylvan felt his heart run cold. At that moment, he knew it wasn’t going to work. Maybe nothing was going to work. Maybe he wasn’t the best botanist in all of Hell. Maybe he was just a big try-hard who was never going to accomplish anything great in his life, whether it be plant-related or gift-giving-related.

Feeling more down than ever, Sylvan picked himself up off the ground. Not only had he failed this mission, but he now had to think about what to do for tomorrow. It was going to be Andrealphus’s birthday in less than 12 hours and he had nothing prepared. Of course, he knew Andrealphus would be happy with anything from him but that wasn’t the same as a gift from the heart. Dragging his clawed feet. He headed back to the house.

Despite his heavy heart and the tears of defeat just a sniffle away from falling, Sylvan put on a strong face. He had to. He couldn’t break down in front of his husband and daughter like this. It would bring the mood down during a time when they should be celebrating. He could feel sorry for himself the day after tomorrow.

With the day done and their little one tucked cozily away in her bed, Sylvan and Andrealphus settled down in the sitting room to spend some quality time together before turning in for the night. This wasn’t an uncommon custom of theirs. They’d both pick up a book sit beside each other on the sofa or settle into their favorite armchair and catch up on their day. Some days not much talking was done and others were more lively. Today, Andrealphus seemed a bit more chatty than usual. Perhaps it was his upcoming birthday tomorrow that got his feather more on end than ever.

“What were you up to today, Dear?” Andrealphus asked. He had settled himself down in his favorite armchair by the window. In his hand was a book that he had been working through the past few days. The title read ‘Freezing Over Hell and All Its Benefits’. Sylvan had no clue what the content was about but it had been keeping his husband’s attention well enough.

Sylvan, who had settled into the chair across from his Andrealphus, looked up from his book about beekeeping. “Oh, you know the usual. I have a few projects in the greenhouse that have been keeping me busy,” he said with a small shrug.

“You want to get bees?” Andrealphus asked, looking at his husband’s book. “You do know they do horribly in the cold.”

Sylvan wasn’t against the idea of getting a hive for his greenhouse but he had mostly picked up this book to study natural pollination. “Well, I’m just dipping my toes into the idea,” he shrugged once more. For some reason, he got the feeling that Andrealphus was upset about something.

“Is that why you’ve been scampering off to the library with Vassago these past few days?” the icey peacock asked next, his voice a bit cold. Sylvan could tell that this point wasn’t what was upsetting his husband despite his tone.

Sylvan didn’t really know how to reply. He didn’t want to tell Andrealphus the truth about the snowflake lilac not blooming. Admitting failure wasn’t something he was ready to do yet. A troubled look etched across his face as he said, “I’ve just been in the mood to read.” It was clearly a lie.

Andrealphus let loose a huff from his nose. His brows lifted and he sent Sylvan a look that read, ‘Fine, then don’t tell me.’

A cold silence filled the room. This was exactly what Sylvan was trying to avoid. He knew his husband didn’t care for secrets. His beak pursed as he considered just coming clean. Admitting defeat had to be better than this.

“You see, dear–”

“The staff has informed me that the snowflake lilacs were all used up today,” Andrealphus said, talking over Sylvan. He glanced up at his husband with sharp eyes. They cut like a dagger and caused Sylvan to flinch. “Do you have any idea how this could’ve happened? We had at least one full flower last I checked.”

Sylvan did his best not to appear guilty. By the way, Andrealphus leered at him, he knew he was doing a poor job of it. He felt his stomach churn in horror. He had totally forgotten to tell the staff not to inform Andrealphus of his potion-making today. He couldn’t be mad at them for informing the icy royal of things such as this was one of their duties.

Andrealphus didn’t need to hear it from Sylvan’s lips that he had been the one to use the flower. “Those are expensive and hard to come by you know, Sylvan,” Andrealphus said, his tone a bit sharp. “Even for a royal family like ours, it will be ages before we can have any sort of refill.”

Sylvan nodded, shut his book, and placed it on his lap. “I… I am aware,” he said, knowing it was pointless to play dumb.

“Then why did you use up the last one?” Andrealphus asked, his tone stiff and sharp. “It’s fine if you want to make positions but rare ingredients like that shouldn’t just be used willy-nilly for personal projects. I hope you had a good reason for its use!”

Sylvan didn’t say a word. The intentions were good but he had failed in the end. Now he was even more weary of admitting this. He clasped his book tightly, not saying a word.

Andrealphus seemed even more annoyed by this reaction but could tell Sylvan had had enough. “Next time don’t use the ingredients with the golden labels unless you have a good reason,” he said, sitting back hard in his chair and flipping open his book.

Sylvan sat quietly for a good while. He didn’t open his book or speak with his husband. His stomach felt sick and his chest iced over with failure. He really should have thought about it a bit more before making the potion. It had been a bad call in the end as it didn’t work. Of course, it didn’t work. Now that he thought about it, others had likely tried the same thing and it had ended just the same. That was likely why it wasn’t recommended in any of the books he read because it didn’t work and people knew it didn’t work. If he had been thinking more logically this would have been obvious to him.

Andrealphus didn’t say another word to his husband. By the way his tail feathers drooped in regret, he could surely see the hurt in his husband’s eyes. There was a slight awkward air about the peacock for his tone had been rather harsh just now despite not knowing what had become of missing snowflake lilac. Still, he hesitated and during this hesitation, Sylvan stood abruptly from his seat.

“I’m a bit tired tonight,” the royal owl said, not looking his husband in the eyes. “I think I’m going to turn in early. Big day tomorrow, after all.”

For only half a beat did their eyes meet. Sylvan looked away almost immediately, turning his back and heading to the door. Perhaps he could have stayed and argued with his husband over the snowflake lilac but he simply wanted to put this all behind him. It wasn’t worth it, getting Andrealphus all worked up only hours before his birthday. It had been a stupid idea, after all.

Sylvan was a bit disappointed that Andreaphus hadn’t grabbed him by the hand and stopped him. Upset, but not shocked. It wasn’t really like the peacock to be that dramatic when it came to romance. The icy bird was flamboyant for sure but he wasn’t the type to sweep you off your feet in a fit of passion like another royal bird Sylvan loved.

Down the hall, to the left, past Primrose’s room he went. It wasn’t long before he arrived at his and Andrealphus’s room. Part of him considered sleeping elsewhere but he really didn’t want to stay upset. Most of his frustration was more with himself after all.

Already in his nightwear, he readied himself for bed. The room was just as icy cold as the rest of the palace. Fortunately, the bed was soft, cozy, and warm. One of the few places outside of his greenhouse that kept his claws from freezing off. Once in bed, he felt a bit calmer. Soon, tomorrow would come and he’d start the long journey of overcoming his failure.

The next day the family celebrated in their own way. They had breakfast together, hung around the house, and prepared for the dinner party that was to be held tonight. Andrealphus was always a bit of a showoff and always took any chance to have guests over, especially to celebrate himself. While preparations were many, most of the work was left to the staff.

Sylvan did his best to leave yesterday behind him. Sure, he felt like he had made a huge mistake and he didn’t have any sort of heartfelt gift for his husband today. It was his bad for taking a chance on the snowflake lilac without having any sort of back up. The lesson was learned and he would not repeat it. Next time, something from a shop would do and he would leave his passion for plants out of present giving from here on out. He was also well aware of the lingering tension between him and his husband since last night. He wished it would just go away but he knew better. Soon either Anrealphus would bring it back up or he would do it himself. Just not today.

It was well into the afternoon when Vassago showed up hours early for the party. “What are you doing here? You know it doesn’t start for another four hours,” Andrealphus asked when the red parrot let himself into the parlor where the family had been taking their afternoon tea.

“Oh, well, I just thought I might come by and see if you needed any help with preparation,” Vassago said with a wide carefree shrug. He planted a gentle kiss on Sylvan’s cheek before taking a seat in one of the fluffy armchairs. “But I see preparation hasn’t started yet, have you already finished?” He smiled at the two other royals in the room. Sylvan and Andrealphus knew that Vassago was just being silly. While Sylvan stifled a giggle Andrealphus rolled his eyes.

“It’s the staff's job to prepare for the party, you know that Vassago,” Andrealphus said with a shake of his head. Despite his dramatic sigh, there was no real venom in his words. In fact, if you were looking closely and knew Andrealphus well, they'd notice his head feathers sitting up a bit taller in what was likely excitement.

“Right, your staff. I just expected you to be a bit more micromanage-y about everything,” Vassago teased, smiling across the room at Andrealphus. “I’m honestly surprised to see you in there and not in the grand hall barking orders.”

Sylvan stifled another laugh. In truth, Andrealphus had been barking orders this morning but Sylvan had coaxed him into the parlor for a birthday tea. “Wouldn’t it be more exciting to see everything done all at once?” he had said with a kiss. Somehow, it had worked on the icy royal despite their lingering tension.

As the three sat in the parlor and talked, with Primrose reading books on the rug, Sylvan couldn’t help but notice Vassago glancing his way more often than normal. It wasn’t in the normal love struck way he looked at him but in a more worried or concerned sort of way. It took Sylvan a long while before it finally hit him. He hadn’t sent word to Vassago about his failure. Was that why he had shown up so early? Was he here to check in on him?

Now he felt double stupid. Not only did he fail but he had left Vassago waiting in worry all this time. Still, Sylvan did his best to remain calm and together. It would come out eventually that he hadn’t succeeded in his mission and why not disappoint both of his lovers at the same time. Just not today.

The conversation was active, as it often was when Vassago and Andrealphus were in the room together. Both royals like to talk to the point it almost seemed like they were in a sort of talking competition. There was no hostility between them today, just fast conversation and a little talking over each other here and there. Sylvan didn’t get much of a chance to get a word in but he also didn’t really have much to say. Not today at least.

“And can you believe it,” Andrealphus said with a great sigh. He had been talking about his less than stellar day yesterday visiting with his sister. “When I came home, exhausted, I found out that someone had used up the last of our snowflake lilacs. And what for? I’ll never know.” There was a hint of childish petty to his words as he glanced over at Sylvan.

Sylvan couldn’t help it. When their eyes met, his very forced smile fell. He knew his husband could be a bit petty baby but in the moment, his words cut like a dagger. He knew Andrealphus had still been upset with him but he had assumed they weren’t going to discuss it today. Try as he might, he couldn’t bring his smile back. Instead, his eyes watered over with the shame he had been carrying all day.

Vassago looked from Andrealphus to Sylvan. He could see the hurt in his lover and it caused the feathers on his head to droop a little. A sense of protection came over him as he addressed Andrealphus and said, “I’m sure he had a good reason for using them!” A scowl set on his brow as he leered at the icy royal. When he turned his attention back to Sylvan, his eyes were soft with concern once more.

There was a beat of silence. All the attention was on Sylvan. Clearly, some sort of explanation was wanted. Sylvan tugged at the end of his sleeves. He pursed his lips before belting out, “It didn’t work.” He spoke much louder than he had meant to. In fact, he hadn’t meant to say anything like that at all. He took in a sharp breath, almost as if he was shocked himself. He looked between the two. Andrealphus was confused and Vassago was full of worry. Like a shot, Sylvan stood from his chair. In a very muffled voice he said, “I… Need to be alone,” and in three long steps was out of his room.

Without his fur cloak, the frigid air left him shivering, but he headed down the hall regardless. He had no clue where he was going, he just needed to be away from the other two. Just a few minutes to collect himself without a shower of questions he was sure would have come his way if he had stayed in the parlor. The flowers in his hair drooped and the leaves became rigid. It was cold in the hallway, very cold, but Sylvan was far too upset to notice it.

Soon, without really meaning to, he had walked himself outside and all the way to his little snowy garden. He didn’t think as to why he came out here. It was quiet and most of the staff forgot this little corner of the property existed. It was always a place he went to be alone for it was usually the last place anyone came looking for him but today it was different. Today he wasn’t just trying to keep away from the others.

He took his time walking around the tall evergreen tree. He glanced at his winter spinach. They waved happily at him in the cold wind. He brushed his hand on the bark of the tree. It was rough but he could tell that it too was in high spirits today. Of course, they were happy, this cold bitter climate was perfect for them. He then turned to look at the lilac bushes. Why? Why were they not thriving like the other winter plants?

His steps were slow but deliberate as he came upon the bushes. Much of the frost from the potion remained on the leaves. He brushed his fingers across them before cupping some of the stubborn buds. This plant was wild. It wasn’t like the other plants that were easy for Sylvan to read. He could tell when they were pleased or when they were unwell. Even the plants in his greenhouse spoke to him but this one didn’t seem interested in giving up its secrets so easily. Did it not like him? Was it upset about being in a garden? It didn’t feel upset nor did it feel happy. The stubborn little thing seemed adamant about keeping its secrets.

He wanted to be mad at the bush. He wanted to blame the bush for this whole mess. He wanted to put all his failures on the bush for not doing what he wanted it to but he also knew that wasn’t fair. This bush was a wild bush. A plant that followed the rules of nature strictly and was not interested in being tamed by anyone. Sylvan hadn’t given himself or the plant much time to really get to know each other. He had been so focused on getting the buds to open, he hadn’t focused too much on the rest of the plant.

“I’m sorry… For rushing you,” Sylvan said to the little plant. “It wasn’t fair of me to do that. It wasn’t your responsibility to gift my husband a present, it was mine…”

The plant said nothing but its branches reached for the cold wind as it blew past them both.

“You’re a strange one, you know,” Sylvan said, observing the odd way it moved in the bitter wind. “It’s almost like you enjoy it.”

The gears began to turn in Sylvan’s head. The plant did seem to like the cold. It wasn’t upset to be frosted over and anytime the wind blew past, it looked as if it was reaching out to it. It was almost like it wanted the cold wind.

“Finally found you!”

Sylvan jumped out of his feather at the sudden arrival of his husband. He stood so fast that he slipped on the snow, falling back quickly. Instead of hitting the ground, he was securely caught in the arms of none other than Andrealphus. When their eyes met, Sylvan didn’t find anger or frustration but worry and remorse.

“Andre…” Sylvan said as he steadied himself. He wasn’t surprised that his husband had come after him but he hadn’t expected to be found so quickly.

“Vassago told me…” Andrealphus said, looking past Sylvan to the lilac bush.

“Did he?” Sylvan said, wilting in defeat. “I’m sorry for using up the last–”

“No,” Andrealphus spoke over Sylvan. “I’m the one who should be sorry and I am sorry, Dear. I’ve been acting like a brat since yesterday.” He helped Sylvan stand but didn’t let him go. “I should have known better than to think you of all people would be wasteful.”

“But I… It didn’t work in the end…” Sylvan admitted, his eyes downcast. “I failed.” When the words came out his voice cracked.

Andrealphus took Sylvan from under the chin so that their eyes ment. “It was one test that didn’t turn out is all,” Andrealphus corrected. “To fail it would have had to kill the plant, right, but the bushes still seem as healthy as ever,” he carried on, stepping to the side to look at the lilac bush.

“But the flowers… I can’t get them to bloom,” Sylvan replied, frowning at the icy plant.

“The buds have come in nice though,” Andrealphus pointed. “And it looks healthy otherwise. I shouldn’t be surprised though. You are the best demon in Hell when it comes to plants. Sometimes I can’t help but brag about you here and there and this is just further proof of that.” He glanced at Sylvan and sent him one of his rare smiles.

Sylvan tucked a bit of hair back as he smiled back. It wasn’t often he got to enjoy such a sweet side to his icy lover. A cold wind blew past once more sending a shiver down Sylcan’s back. He took a step closer to his husband and as he did so, he found Andrealphus’s icy cloak around his shoulders. It was somehow warm and comforting.

“You know, it’s not good for you to be out in the cold like this in such little clothing,” Andrealphus fussed, making sure Sylvan was bundled tight.

Sylvan smiled at his husband and allowed him to fuss over his well being. The wind kicked up once more and as it did, he watched the branches of the lilac bush reach for it.

“It almost looks like the bush likes the wind,” Andrealphus said, observing the plant as well.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Sylvan nodded. “You know, it comes from a part of Hell that is cold and snowy with strong gusts of wind almost year around. I bet it feels at home in the–” Sylvan stopped as an idea hit him. He looked at Andrealphus with wide excited eyes. “The wind!” He cried, taking his husband by the hands.

“The wind? What about it!?” Andrealphus asked, absolutely confused.

“That’s what I’ve been missing,” Sylvan said, putting one hand to his forehead as he did his best to contain himself. “We have the cold and snow but we don’t have the strong wind. That’s what it’s been trying to tell me this whole time! That’s what’s been missing!!!” he gave a little hop of excitement as a bright smile graced his face.

“Well, I guess that makes sense but is the wind here strong enough?” Andrealphus asked, blushing at the sight of his husband’s utter joy.

“No, but yes!” Sylvan said. “This wind won’t be able to do it but I bet…” He paused as he squeezed Andrealphus’s hands. “I bet the wind you make will be perfect! It’s the coldest wind in Hell and strong as ever!”

“Me? My wind?” Andrealphus asked, looking a bit shocked. Never before had anything in Hell ever enjoyed the wind he produced. Most things living things cowered in fear.

“I know it’ll do the trick! I just know it will” Sylvan said with such confidence it was almost as if he had already seen it happen in the past.

While Sylvan was very certain, Andrealphus wasn’t so much. Not only was he skeptical about anything enjoying the cold he produced, he also didn’t want to see Sylvan sad if this didn’t work out. Still, he wasn’t going to deny his lover. “I suppose I can give it a shot but you need to get behind me,” he replied, pulling Sylvan to his backside. “And no coming around until I say so. My icy wind can be very damaging, you know.”

Sylvan did as he was told, and placing his hands on Andrealphus’s shoulders he said, “Make it the coldest yet!”

Andrealphus wasn’t a plant guy but even he knew plants hated the bitter cold. Still, he would do as he was asked. With a nod, he concentrated his powers and focused on the plants. He hoped this didn’t kill them and ruin his husband’s hard work.

“On a count of three! One… two... Three…” and with that, he blasted the plant with a strong frigid gust of wind. The bush danced with joy in the gust, almost as if it had been waiting all this time for just this moment. Still, the buds remained closed.

“Again! But longer!” Sylvan said into Andrealphus’s ear.

Andrealphus nodded and did as he was told. He held the gust as long as he could. The bitter cold wind froze everything in its path but the bush remained dancing. Almost as if it were praising the heavens, the bushed reached for the ice wind. They reached and reached and reached until their little buds slowly split open.

With a loud breathy gasp of disbelief, Sylvan cried, “It’s working!”

And working it was. Within less than a minute, every last bud on the lilac bush opened to reveal beautiful blue icy lilac flowers. Fresh and glistening, the flowers smiled in the icy cold.

“I-It worked,” Sylvan sobbed, overcome with such joy. “It worked, it actually worked.” Without much thought, he took Andrealphus into a hug, planting a big wet kiss on his beak.

Andrealphus stumbled as he did his best to keep both himself and his husband upright. He was still in a bit of shock himself. He had expected to kill the poor plant with his wind, not figure out the missing link to the flower’s bloom. Still, he enjoyed the show of affection from his husband.

When their kiss broke, Sylvan smiled up at Andrealphus with such joy that the icy peacock was sure his icy heart had melted just a little.

“That was amazing, Andre. You did it!” Sylvan cheered, hugging his husband close.

“Don’t be silly,” Andrealphus mumbled back, clearly a bit embarrassed by the show of affection. “You’re the one who figured it out. I merely assisted. It was you who did it, Dear,” he said, embracing his lover back.

“Oh, happy birthday all the same,” Sylvan said, before sharing a sweet kiss with Andrealphus.

The kiss lasted much longer than normal but neither royal seemed to care. In fact, it was a nice change for them both. Something they really could do more often.

“Here I am worried over you two and I find you both smooching things out,” Vassago said, feigning annoyance. He smiled at the two as he made his way to the bushes. “I dare say it is unfair that I’m left out of the celebration despite being the one who found the information on the bush’s environment to begin with.” Clearly, he was teasing them but he did put on a good act.

“You may have found the information but it was Sylvan who did the hard task of putting the pieces together,” Andrealphus proudly replied. He now lovingly held his husband in one arm. “I’m sure you read it on a whim anyway.”

Vassago’s smile faltered. “I will have you know I accompanied Sylvan to the library several–” He stopped the moment Sylvan put up his hand.

Sylvan looked up at Andrealphus. Of course, he was pleased to have his husband stand up for him but Vassago did do his part. “He did put a lot of work into this as well. I’m sure without his support I never would have come this far,” he explained.

“Oh, fine,” Andrealphus pouted. “Get your starry little ass over here, then!” Despite his pout, he wasn’t actually upset that Vassago had shown up.

With a happy little skip, Vassago slid up on the other side of Sylvan. Warm and cozy, Sylvan savored being between the two men he loved. It wasn’t often he got to enjoy them both so close at the same time. Looking upon the snowflake lilacs, the three men admired the results of their hard work. The beautiful little flowers danced upon the branches as if they too were happy to finally be free.

“They are absolutely beautiful, mi amor,” Vassago sang.

“You really did outdo yourself this time, dear,” Andrealphus agreed.

Together the two men planted sweet little kisses on either side of Sylvan’s cheeks. The royal owl hooted the happiest of giggles. With a heart filled with love and joy, he took the two into a warm embrace.