"Roy."
Again with that greeting, again in that infernal tone. Never had it intended for such a pattern to become habit, but with so many uncertainties in life, the things that work for a newly emerged soul are easy to cling onto.
New things, like traditions, must be met with an eager grip.
Such is this tradition--of celebrating the Day of Devotion. Idunn understands little of its history, but that doesn't matter to her. Her past is clouded with shadow and marred in that awful dream, so to look past the reasons why a thing is the way it is today, is but a simple reflex to her.
The Day of Devotion... A day to express gratitude to those important to you.
The core of what it is is not lost with her. That much she is confident in knowing, so again does she walk to the lion's side with tiny steps. "Today..." she begins, again taking the initiative before he's even fully turned around, "today is special, isn't it? People are laughing. Smiling. They are giving things to those they care for."
And she'd seen it many times this afternoon, be it a charming noble for his equally handsome lover, a mother to her children--a pair of close companions laughing at their mutual gag-gifts.
So precious hands have worked hard to procure a present of their own, perusing stalls, asking for permission from vendors and monastery faculty. They, with the small lump-sum they had traveled with, mustered up both the courage and coin to afford Roy a sweet treat. When Idunn's mixed-eye gaze meets his, she pushes those hands closer to his chest. And in them are a dozen lumps of glazed chocolate. Where they melt somewhat--after being held in her warm grasp for too long--flecks of color can be seen underneath. They aren't just chocolates, but chocolate-coated fruit: something she knew she'd want to share with another.
"Take these. I care for you, so I want you to have them. Happy... Day of Devotion."
Roy was always happy to see Idunn. A reminder that not all war ended with death. A reminder that there could be hope in the world. A reminder that a gleaming sword did not always have to stand for bloodshed.
She struggled to speak sometimes, but he was patient, ignoring her tone for the heart underneath.
"It is special," he agreed, heart light, the sun in his eyes. You're special, he wanted to say, but she was learning to be a person. She didn't need to be put on some pedestal. Someday, he could tell her that, and she'd know what he meant.
He looked down to whatever rested in her hands, endeared smile already on his face. "Oooooh, are these cherries? Raspberries? Regardless, I bet they're delicious. You have some too, right?"
Carefully, he took them in his hands, not minding how the semi melted chocolate made an instant mess of his hands. A smear got on his sleeve too but he didn't mind, leaning down to lick at his wrist with a laugh. He popped a chocolate in his mouth and hmmmed, grinning at her with another smudge on his face.
"Thank you, Idunn. Ah, I think they might be raisins!"
May she have many more days like this, even when it was with someone else, many years later.
