Flower Language
➢ pairing: Leonardo x MC [Ikemen Vampire]
➢ word count: 1,413
⚠️ content warnings: None!
This is my entry for @ikemenlibrary's Ikemen Valentine Gift Exchange, dedicated to @sunnyikemen! I have never written for Leo before, but I had a lot of fun with his character, and I hope that I did well enough to make for an enjoyable read at least! Happy belated Valentine's Day, Sunny, and here is some Leo fluff for you :)
Being around the most famous polymath in history, there was always a new surprise in store.
Leonardo da Vinci seemed to know everything about everything. Perhaps it was because of his endless knowledge, gathered over the course of centuries, or perhaps it was because of the air of ease that surrounded him—but it did not escape his notice how the newest resident of the manor seemed to gravitate toward him upon her unexpected arrival.
He never denied her his company. At first, because he knew she was frightened and disoriented.
For a girl who had found herself transported into another time period in the blink of an eye, there was only uncertainty around every corner. Yet Leonardo's breezy personality and apparent ability to handle anything with minimal effort brought her security, as well as distraction. He knew this, and so he made it a note to help her throughout her time in the manor, keeping her mind off her troubles.
You're restless and wish to get out of the manor, cara mia? Well, then, let's take a day outside Paris. The French countryside is an equally worthy sight for a time traveler, and it'd be a shame not to have you visit. Hm? Where to? Well, it's no fun if I tell you all the details, now, is it?
How to paint, you ask? Why, you wish to prove a point to Theo? Ha! Don't pay him too much mind, 'knabbeltje' is merely a term of endearment, I'm sure. But if you really wish to learn, then I am glad to be of service, morso mio. ...Hm, no, of course that's not the same as what Theo says. Would you accuse me of such a thing?
So, you want to hear about Florence back in those days, then. I hope this isn't because of any gossip you heard from the noble Comte. ...Alright, alright. Come, sit. I suppose I ought to make an effort to salvage my good name, at least.
Days turned into weeks of trying to make himself available to her, helping her calm down and settle into her new life at the mansion. He had sworn to himself that was all it was. But as wary as he knew to be of the passage of time, somehow he found it creeping up on him again. Even after she was already well settled, he continually found himself at her side, as if naturally drawn there.
He didn't realize until too late, one afternoon when they were sitting out in the mansion's gardens together.
A certain flower had caught her eye—a yellow daisy—and Leonardo had commented, absentmindedly, "Ah, yes. Joy and friendship."
It was an innocent remark, accompanied by a little chuckle. It made sense to him that this should be the flower that struck her. He had come to associate her with such qualities, after all, because they were what she brought to him. Every little inconsequential story he shared with her, every time he allowed her to watch him paint and work, every time he whisked her out on some spontaneous excursion, it was often met with that look of intrigue, that little excited glimmer in her eyes.
Yet he was somewhat surprised when his passive comment earned him that same look.
Humming to herself, her eyes scanned over the other flowers in the garden and came to rest on another. “And that one?” She nodded her head towards the flower in question.
“Which, the marigold?”
She glanced back at him expectantly and nodded once more, seeming quite eager to hear his explanation. Leonardo, now acutely aware that he was being tested, smiled a little.
“Marigolds represent grief. Or the passage from one life to the next.”
“Really? But they seem so much brighter, warmer…”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you doubting me, cara mia?”
And for that remark, he found himself rewarded with soft laughter. Despite himself, and despite everything he had assured himself about maintaining his distance, he could not help but feel his heart squeeze. Spending an idyllic afternoon wandering around the mansion’s garden, chatting among the flowers as they bloomed with the new season, it all felt so warm.
“No, no…” She shook her head, still smiling. “It’s just unbelievable, that’s all…”
“So you are doubting me.” Leonardo tsked in faux disapproval, savoring the little back-and-forth of the moment. “Alright, now it’s a challenge, then. Ask me about another.”
Looking around again, she settled on a vibrant purple bud and pointed to it.
“Ah, crocuses stand for young love,” he answered knowingly. “There is an old Greek legend that Crocus was a mortal lover of Hermes, and the god was so devastated when he died that he had him transformed into a flower. The red on the inside, there, is supposed to represent his blood.”
She seemed quite taken by the story as he explained. Ah, he would never tire of seeing that look on her face, when she was so absorbed in what he was saying, when he knew she was hanging on every word. But arguably, it was even better to watch her fluster when he concluded his tale with a triumphant smirk.
“Alright, don’t get too arrogant, now.” She pointed to another flower. “What about that one?”
“Sweetpea, gratitude.”
“And the lily?”
“Purity.”
“And the white camellia?”
“You’re adorable.”
For a moment, silence fell between them. Even the great polymath had his limits, and he did not realize what he was saying—or how it would be construed—until he glanced at her curiously and found her staring back at him.
Oh.
“No, I mean…” He coughed. “That… is what the flower means.”
She blinked. Quickly returning to her senses, she began to shake her head, as if to simply laugh off the misunderstanding. “Yes, right.”
For as much as he was inclined to laugh along with her, however, he found himself unable to do so. Once more he felt his heart squeeze in his chest—though this time, it was a more uncomfortable feeling. Uncomfortable in a familiar, sinking way.
“Well, anyway… I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that you’ve studied flower language at some point as well. You’ve studied practically everything else,” she said, attempting to keep the mood light and teasing. “At times I wonder, is there anything you don’t know?”
Leonardo found himself staring at her a moment longer, somewhat troubled by that old feeling in his chest, and taken aback by the realization that he did, in fact, find her quite adorable. Not wanting to keep her waiting for a response, lest she start to suspect there was something on his mind, he sighed and managed a little smile.
“...Actually, cara mia… There are plenty of things I don’t know.”
With that, he reached over and carefully plucked one of the little flowers nearby. He tucked the flower behind her ear, grinning with satisfaction as he watched her demeanor brighten again.
“Hm, that’s better.”
“That was a pink camellia, right?” She gazed back at him with that curious look he loved so much to see on her.
“Maybe so.”
An ambiguous response, as if he had simply chosen the flower at random, when they both knew that wasn’t the case.
“What does that one mean, then?”
Something in Leonardo’s grin became a bit more wistful. There was another beat of silence, and then, suddenly, he reached out and lightly ruffled her hair.
“...I concede defeat,” he said, after pretending to think for a moment. “I’ve forgotten.”
Laughing at his actions as she tried to fix her hair, she seemed quite pleased by the thought of having gotten one over on him. So pleased that—much to his relief—she let it drop, and did not question him any further about the flower’s meaning.
Leonardo watched her smiling, standing in the sun with a flower in her mussed-up hair, and studied her as though she were one of the wonders of the world. There was no longer any doubt in his mind as to what exactly this feeling was, weighing so heavily upon his heart. And there was no doubt that he had chosen the right flower to express it.
Even if he could never say it to her face—his lovely Crocus, who had so miraculously appeared in his life across time and space, and who was bound to one day return to her own world beyond that door—he could not deny it.
This unspeakable feeling, represented by a pink camellia.
I long for you.
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🌟Tsuna's parents🌟
Akvila Mehra
meaning: alternate spelling of the constellation Aquila. It means "eagle".
Mehra is a surname signifying descendants of the sun god.
Until more information is given, his surname is in the air, as it's unclear how 'bin' is used.
Akvila was a Hannish silk merchant working with the East Aldenard Trading Company. Because of this, he made frequent trips to Othard.
He manages to have a silver-tongue for merchantry despite being a man who has difficulty showing genuine emotion. He has spent most of his life on ships bound for distant lands-- something that may have lent to his gruff demeanor.
Orihime Wasaishi
meaning: Orihime means "Weaver girl", and is the name of the star Vega.
Raen (at least in Hingashi) have surnames based on their trade, therefore Wasaishi means "Kimono tailor".
Tsuna's mother, Orihime, hailed originally from Sui-no-Sato. The two met one day as she was washing the dyes from her silks in the One River (yuzen nagashi). After their courting and subsequent marriage, she moved to the Enclave where The Royal Court would employ her for her weaving.
She was a calm, and sweet woman with a strong sense of wanderlust that would ultimately be unfulfilled.
Yes, yes, they're both a Tanabata reference please clap.
Orihime (a weaver girl) and Hikoboshi (a shepherd) were separated by the Milky Way-- the Glass Ocean(?) in their case-- and were only permitted to meet once a year.
--
Tsuna was born sometime later in 1545, only 7 years before the fall of Doma. Once she was old enough, she often helped her mother in the shop due to her father being away more often than not.
Orihime was also strict-- guilty of imparting onto her child the ideals of her people who shunned the outside world, and avoided conflict at all cost. Tsuna grew up on her bedtime stories of the world beneath the waves, and of the Ruby Prince-- a half-Auri man who was born without scales.
When Doma fell, the Court was dissolved, and its servants were displaced or taken as conscripts.
Left without a mother, and her father having been away on a long voyage, Tsuna was smuggled into Kugane by a family friend where she would be taken in by an Okiya as a perceived orphan.
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