“Once, just once, I’d like for someone to bring me flowers instead of corpses.” -- From Haumeric
It had been a statement followed by an exasperated sigh, one the paladin has been certain wasn't meant to be overheard. Yet still, it had nagged at the back of his mind. Flowers were not so common a gift, considering they spent near all their time in the presence of only other men, and yet still it seemed such a simple thing to wish for.
And so, when the plants he kept in his room finally bloomed, he'd carefully clipped a few and arranged them in a simple blue vase. It was only a few blooms, the vase simple and understated yet still elegant (and obscenely expensive, though not so much to a High House noble), but they were still flowers. Surely the effort, the thought, was what counted, right?
He'd second guessed himself at the last minute, staring at the silly little gift he'd made. His brother-in-arms would almost certainly laugh at such a ridiculous thing, were it delivered by the ever expressionless paladin. He'd slipped a few hundred gil to one of the maids to leave it in Haumeric's chambers, and then a few hundred more for her to keep the secret. When next the cleric returned, he'd find the small vase with but a few lovely blue flowers within situated on his bedside table.
Pleased that his task had been completed, Celestaux returned to the ever pressing matter of training.