it's a secret to everybody

[cottonhearted]

Who: Alorah, Inigo, Shantae
When: Feb 27 onward
Where: BE-12
What:  do you like me? circle one


Back when they'd first met, Alorah had noticed the nicks and fraying edges on Inigo's clothes. An inevitable part of the life of a roving mercenary, perhaps, but now that he lived at the school full-time, there was no need to put up with road-worn clothes. Especially not when certain Jumpluffs had spent the many months at home with Gold and his mom working on her hand-stitching. Alorah was eager to enact a little bit of the fairy magic she loved so much, and that seemed like a good place to start.

Sneaking into the room shared by Inigo and Pidge was surprisingly easy. One perk to a bird roommate: the window was unlocked, and there was no screen in the way to prevent an avian body from getting in and out. As feeble as her little cotton-tufts may have been, she always had been pretty good at slipping past barriers. Both the room's occupants were gone -- busy with classes, presumably.

She worked quickly; a tiny sewing kit of the bare essentials was easy to bring along in her thick cotton, and in her human form, it didn't take long to find Inigo's clothing and do some simple mending work. She had just finished folding the fixed-up clothes on his bed and switched back to her Jumpluff form, ready to creep back out the window.

Comments

[manforflowers]

It was at that exact moment that Inigo stepped through the door again. It wasn't hard for the sentient blue cottonpuff to be the first thing that caught his eye when he entered the room - he blinked, uncertain of how to react. "Huh? What have we got here?"

First off, he had no idea what it was supposed to be. Was it... a pet? Maybe Pidge's? He hadn't mentioned it before. Or perhaps, Inigo thought as a cold breeze came in from the open window, it had simply flew in here by mistake. At least it didn't look dangerous or anything. Just puffy and round.

He slowly approached, as not to startle the little... thing. It had his full attention at the moment - Inigo hadn't noticed the neatly folded clothes yet. "Are you lost?"

[cottonhearted]

Alorah was pretty good at not being spotted, but she was definitely not good at handling being spotted. Those moments where suddenly there were eyes locked onto her like somebody had shone a searchlight right on her -- caught red-handed, fairy magic ruined -- tended to rob her of all ability to think on her feet.

She made a horrible strangled squeaky sound. It was supposed to be an apology (it was really super rude to barge into people's rooms uninvited, regardless of any favours you were trying to do), but she had forgotten a few important things:

1) How to speak
2) Oh wait, he can't even understand her when she's a Jumpluff.

She shuffled back, scooting away from the carefully folded clothing and hoping maybe the breeze would die down juuust enough for her to dive back out the window.

[manforflowers]

Maybe it was the way she backed away from the pile of clothes that made him notice it - after all, it wasn't that unlike a child trying to distance themselves from something naughty that they shouldn't have touched. Except in this case, his clothes looked... a lot tidier than when he left them. And were those nicks in the fabric patched up? Inigo had been meaning to try himself once he had some more Home Ec classes, but...

But it had to be impossible for a tiny puffball like this to sew anything, right? Did it even have hands?! Then how?

Unless... it had simply broken in and delivered his clothes to someone else, who touched up his things and had their pet return them. All in secrecy, too.

The question was, who would go to all the trouble to do nice things for him in secret?

There was only one reasonable(?) explanation that popped into Inigo's head. His eyes grew wide as he jumped to conclusions. "Wait, wait! Are you from a secret admirer?!"

[cottonhearted]

N...no. No, Inigo, not exactly. That he hadn't even thought to guess she had been the one to fix up his clothes was a small relief, at least. Maybe nobody had explained humanization to him yet. Maybe she just looked so outlandishly far from humanlike that he'd taken her for some kind of animal. Whatever it was, he definitely didn't recognize her as Alorah, at the very least.

Which meant going human was entirely out of the question here. If she had a hope of maintaining anonymity, then it was worth hanging onto. That meant actual talking wasn't an option, which also meant that explaining herself wasn't really going to work.

...Not like she had a better excuse than the one he'd supplied for her, anyway. "I did the thing just 'cause" wasn't really all that satisfying of an explanation in and of itself. It wasn't like the secret admirer angle was a total mistruth, either: her identity was definitely a secret, and she did think that Inigo was a pretty admirable person. So, although some part of her wondered if she was being a bit cruel for misleading Inigo, she nodded her round little body. Yes. A secret admirer.

[cottonhearted]

Alorah read and re-read that letter many times over the next couple days, thinking it over carefully. Of course she ought to respond. She didn't have the heart to raise Inigo's hopes that high, then leave him nothing but silence and disappointment. But what should she say?

More importantly... she found herself surprised by how much the letter said about Inigo. He had written it in a hurry, anxious to catch this mysterious "pet" before it ran off, but the penmanship was elegant. The letter itself was eloquent and alluring -- Alorah was sure she would never have been able to come up with anything as charming even if she pored over it for hours.

Not to mention it had given her a few things that her very first conversation with Inigo hadn't. The wax seal, for example, or the way the letter had been signed. When Alorah met Inigo, he was just Inigo. When this secret admirer met him, he was Inigo of House Ylisse.

Alorah wasn't sure how good of a letter-writer she was, but if this let her get to know more about him, then maybe the prospect of replying was just a little bit exciting.

The second time a certain little Jumpluff crept into Inigo's room, it was with an envelope bearing Inigo's name. She had used a daisy sticker instead of a wax seal, and her words were a bit clumsier than Inigo's, but she'd brought the reply he'd hoped for.

(This time, she waited for him, though not without some uncertain drifting back toward the window, and maybe a spot of nervous dusting and tidying around his desk. The thought that Inigo's roommate might come back first was a pretty nerve-rattling one.)

[manforflowers]

Another long day of classes. Inigo was quite ready to retire to his room, and that was exactly what he did. Walking through the door and seeing the blue, puffy messenger there, though, immediately brought a bright smile to his face. The anticipation of correspondence was just so invigorating!

"You're back!" He approached the Jumpluff eagerly, asking it, "Have you brought word?"

[cottonhearted]

"Pluff," Alorah squeaked, relieved that it was Inigo and not Pidge who had reached home first.

She wafted her way over to where she had set the envelope down, bouncing eagerly in place next to it. It was a little embarrassing to see your letter read right in front of you, but she was anxious to see if her answer would make him as happy as her first little visit had.

[manforflowers]

"Ah!" Inigo went to his desk - noting also that it was much tidier than when he had left it. Another kind deed? Well, first things first, opening the letter. He was much accustomed to simply cutting through wax seals, so the habit carried over to tearing the cute daisy sticker - it had done its duty in ensuring the letter arrived intact to its intended recipient.

Giddily, he began to read.

[cottonhearted]

Alorah's second letter came more quickly than the first, now that there wasn't any doubt about whether she ought to reply or not. This time around, she had cut out a few paper flowers and slid them into the envelope as well. Light purple primroses, with sunny yellow in their centers. She wasn't sure if her attempts at imitation were good enough to make them identifiable, but she certainly couldn't go killing real primroses just to add a cutesy little touch to her letter.

Once again, Inigo would get to return home to a Jumpluff in his room and a letter on his desk, sealed with another cute little sticker.

You surprise me! I'd never guess that someone that charismatic could ever be shy. It's a little endearing, if that's alright to say. Comforting, too. I feel a bit braver knowing that you understand what it's like.

There aren't really any nobles where I come from, so I only know about princes and knights from stories, but you certainly seem as courteous and selfless as the fairy-tale princes I've read about. I hope it's not too impetuous, but I'd like to hear more about your upbringing. Tell me about House Ylisse, if you don't mind? Plenty of girls daydream about knights in shining armor, but I'm lucky enough to meet one!

Eagerly awaiting your answer,

Your Secret Admirer

[manforflowers]

While equally delighted to see another letter, the contents of her request demanded much to be processed. Inigo rubbed his chin, mulling on how best to weave the words for his secret admirer - but this time, it was obvious that a reply required more than jotting out short notes as her puffy pet waited.

After some deliberation, he peered down at the Jumpluff. "I'll make a guess you can understand me, yes? I'm afraid I need a little more time for this reply."

He wandered over to the window and leaned against the wall, looking in. Not a great deal was visible of his dorm from the outside, save for his chair, the edge of his desk... but it did give him an idea. Inigo picked up the over-the-shoulder utility belt that was hanging sloppily on his bedpost, and brought it over.

"Once it's written, I'll store it in the pouch of my belt," he motioned towards the loosened clasp, "and hang it over my chair. You'll be able to see it from the window, right here." As a demonstration, he did exactly that - slinging the belt in a way that blended in completely with his room's otherwise sloppy ways.

"And if you have a reply for me, store it in the same pouch and lay it at the foot of the bed." Hopefully Inigo wasn't too amiss in assuming the armless puff could accomplish this - after all, if it could tidy a desk, surely moving a belt wouldn't be beyond its powers. "Lest one day you're waiting on me and my room mate finds you instead."

Feeling rather accomplished for coming up with such a cunning plan, the mercenary smiled to himself. "Not a bad scheme, if I may say so myself."

[cottonhearted]

"Pluff!" Alorah squeaked her agreement. She had worried herself how she would explain things if Inigo's roommate ever showed up. Not only would sneaking into boy dorms probably look pretty shady to the RAs, but Alorah definitely couldn't expect that nobody else would be able to connect her Jumpluff self to her human self. There'd be no chance of Inigo's secret admirer staying a secret if she were to be discovered. This system Inigo had invented was both easy and unobtrusive. Nobody had to know about their exchanges, and she wouldn't have to risk waiting in Inigo's room.

Moving the belt wouldn't be a problem. Even if a little six-pound cottonball wasn't the strongest thing out there, she didn't have to stay a six-pound cottonball the whole time. It would only take a second to move the belt in place, after all. All things considered, it was a pretty ingenious way of going about things.

If Inigo needed time to write his reply, then that wasn't any trouble. Alorah returned to the windowsill, waggled her tufts in farewell, and leaped into the wind. She could check back later, once he'd had time to pen his thoughts.

[manforflowers]

A day later, a letter was waiting for the Jumpluff, sealed and tucked neatly into his belt. Perhaps he rambled on about his feelings a bit, but... well, it felt good to write them out.

I've always preferred fairytales myself - between the two of us, my sister's more the enthusiast for history. The blood of the first exalt, and many valiant kings flow through the family line, and it gives her strength. It comes with heavy obligations, but she wears it better than I. If you see even an ounce of nobility in me, I assure you it must be from her influence!

All my life I have known knights and true valour, of their spirit and sacrifice... but such things shine brightest against great darkness. And though they, our parents, endeavoured to raise us as normally as possible, growing up amidst the backdrop of conflict, we knew we were the inheritors of great heroes. For many of my childhood friends, it was either our dream to pick up the sword and follow in their footsteps, or our inevitable duty.

My mother was the one to teach me how to use a blade, and in the beginning I was too shy to train with anyone else! But regardless of any hesitation I might have harboured, we all had to step up to fight eventually.

Upon reflection, my life as of late has felt like falling into a fairytale... the kind where children are whisked away from great sadness by a divine boon... Hold it as good fortune, perhaps, that there are no need for knights soaked in valour here. There is nothing I cherish more than this peace.

Enchantedly yours,

Inigo of House Ylisse

[cottonhearted]

Alorah had much more to think about when she brought this letter home. There was lots of information tucked away into those words. She didn't understand all of them -- what a first exalt was, she didn't know -- but there was enough to start painting a picture of where Inigo had come from.

She was beginning to get the sense that Ylisse was not necessarily the fairy-tale paradise she'd first thought, and Inigo's life as a wandering helper to those in need probably meant things more dire than rescuing cats from trees or reprimanding bullies. Was this maybe something she shouldn't be prying about...? The last thing Alorah wanted to do was hurt Inigo for no better reason than her curiosity. If this was about knowing him better, then it was about knowing him better on his terms.

In the end, she reassured herself that Inigo wouldn't write anything he didn't want to write. A day later, Inigo's belt had been moved to the foot of his bed, her reply tucked neatly away.

You and I have a love of fairy tales in common, then. There aren't many things as powerful as kindness right when someone needs it most, I think. It sounds a little strange, but I've always wanted to be like the fairy godmothers in those stories.

If it's okay to ask... was taking up the sword a dream or duty for you? It sounds as though you and your sister both grew up with a lot of weight on your shoulders. Things weren't peaceful in your kingdom growing up? There was a happy ending to this, I hope, and I hope just as dearly that it didn't come at the cost of too much pain for you. You don't need to recount anything you would rather leave unsaid just for my sake, but if putting words to ink helps, then I'll listen to anything you like.

I'd like to think maybe you are living a fairy tale, if it means you can live peacefully and happily here. I don't know what fairy godmother whisked you into my life, but I'm very grateful to her.

Thinking of you,

Your Secret Admirer

[manforflowers]

While it did take a weight off his shoulders to write about it, Inigo couldn't help but feel like it was something he ought to keep buried. After all, it was all in the past - there wasn't any point in dredging up old sorrows when they were long behind him. His memories remained, but they were of a future that had already been unwritten. There as no way of even knowing if he could return to his original time.

So why dig it up now? Surely all that would do was cause needless worry and ache. If his secret admirer was a fan of happy endings, then he would give her one instead.

Two days later, a new letter appeared.

I suppose taking up the sword was a combination of both. It was expected of a prince to fight for his people, of course - but I truly was driven. I was fighting for all the beautiful women of the world, after all.

Don't worry, Secret Admirer - it all ended well. Though instead of a fairy godmother, it was the power of Naga the Divine Dragon that saved me instead. Though the world had tipped far past the edge of ruin, her magic had created a failsafe that allowed my friends and I to travel back in time in order to shift the course of destiny.

We got to see our parents again, and we saw the end of the Fell Dragon that would've doomed humanity. It's more than I could've ever dared to dream of. There's no way of telling what would await us if we returned home - would our home be remade, or just as we left it? That great Gate remains closed to us regardless.

All the same, I think I prefer staying here. It would pain me to leave a world so filled with beauty, just as it would pain me to leave you.

Yours through time and space,

Inigo of House Ylisse

[cottonhearted]

This ended up being another letter Alorah read over and over. Not so much because of the romance of it, but because of the hints of something deep and dark scattered in the letter. Through a boon from a Dialga-ish being, Inigo had taken a one-way trip through time, right? Was the reason he had gone from a prince to wandering sellsword because he couldn't go back home anymore?

Then again... it sounded like there hadn't been much to return to, had there? Warfare? A world in ruin? Doomed humanity? The mention of getting to see their parents again... no, maybe she was reading too much into that. Whatever the case, Alorah definitely got the sense that Inigo had been through much harder times than his cheery happily-ever-after retelling suggested. Was it okay to keep asking about it...?

Alorah lingered for longer than she needed to delivering this next letter, hoping that she might catch Inigo in person, let her cottony tufts provide the kind of comfort that a letter couldn't. No such luck, alas: the letter was deposited, the belt placed, and after a moment's hesitating, the little pluff was gone again.

It's a relief to me that the tale ends happily, but I still worry. It came at the price of a great sacrifice, didn't it? I'm a nomad by my roots, but the thought of never being able to go home again is a frightening and lonely one. Your goal was achieved, but that doesn't erase all the hardship that lead up to it, does it?

It was my idea to stay hidden, but I feel strangely limited by these letters. I can't touch you with ink, and I can only bring you what my messenger can carry. How can I comfort you, Inigo? I spent a long time wondering, but letters are all I can come up with. I know there are things that words on a page can't replace, but I would like to make this place a home for you as much as I can. I'd like to shoulder some of those sadnesses, if I can be trusted with them.

Longing to hear from you,

Your Secret Admirer

[manforflowers]

A week had passed without reply. Each evening, Inigo would dip his quill in ink, ready to reassure his admirer/pen pal that he was perfectly all right, and every time he faltered.

I admit, I don't have many happy memories to draw upon. But I'd rather look forward to creating new ones to carry with me when I feel alone

No, into the wastebasket.

The last thing I want to do is worry you! It's hardly becoming of a prince to show weakness, and to such a dear admirer no less. How could I win the heart of anyone if they could see through

Scribble, toss.

Though the future is closed to me, knowing my parents are still alive and well is enough to make the journey worth it. Even if I don't belong there with them, it's

No, just no. They all landed in the bin. There was even a blank sheet of paper that simply read:

Sigh.

After a while, Inigo simply gave up and began jotting down notes for dance steps instead - but even those were unfinished. The days stretched on, with his wastebasket conspicuously more and more full, and his belt unmoved.

[cottonhearted]

Alorah was starting to worry. She could understand needing time to put a reply together, but the days stretched on, and every time she drifted by that window there was nothing waiting for her. Maybe she'd been too pushy? Maybe the things she'd been asking for were too much for Inigo to dig up again. The longer she went without a response, the more convinced she became that she had upset him. But maybe sending another letter would be putting on too much pressure?

In the end, though, just doing nothing was intolerable. She took another trip to Inigo's window, this time with a little cellophane bundle of sugar cookies. The trip was a bit harder than usual, as it was an especially windy day out. The extra burden of the cookies made it a bit trickier, too; she had to take a few tries to stay on the windowsill long enough to get it open without falling off entirely.

Once she did, her entrance was a far cry from delicate fairylike grace. As soon as she got the window open, the wind rushed in, sending her rolling head-over-heels across Inigo's desk. She toppled off with an alarmed little squeak, upsetting his wastebasket and breaking two of her cookies.

Oh, goodness, what a mess...! There was paper all over the floor, and she'd gone and messed up her gift to him. Of course she had to clean it up! Alorah meant to just replace all the spilled bits of paper without looking at them, of course, but... well, it had been an awfully long time since he replied. She couldn't think of many things more invasive and unladylike than snooping in a person's trash, though! She couldn't possibly!

But... hm, this one wasn't very crumpled up. She just happened to glance over it as she gathered it up in her cotton tufts, but it didn't seem to spark the revelation she'd sort of hoped for. Notes about... something? Dancing? Inigo had been at Dance Club that one time, but it had most definitely not been as a participant. What did that mean, then?

Her curiosity piqued, Alorah surveyed the scattered papers again. Ah...! The draft from the window had turned over a piece that was face-down. If she saw any words written on it as she picked it up, of course, that was strictly coincidence.

This one was not about dancing. This one was definitely a scrapped reply to her letter. It was only a fragment of a reply, of course, and the ink had been smeared by its hasty discarding, but it offered enough that it grabbed Alorah immediately. Not without shame, she dropped the scrap into the bin and reached for another to look over.

[cottonhearted]

The wind hadn't gotten any gentler when Alorah left; getting home proved just as hard for the light little puff as getting into Inigo's room had been. She struggled with her own window, nearly blowing right off her perch more than once, before she finally managed to get it open enough to tumble inside.

Her landing was no more graceful this time around; she hit the floor rolling and hit Shantae's bedpost with a solid thunk. She squealed, cotton tufts cradling her head where she'd struck the post. Ow! No more sneaking into windows on especially blustery days, she decided, poofing back into her human form. That was probably going to raise a nasty bump -- better to grab the first aid kid and take a look in the bathroom, maybe see if a Potion would soothe it.

Smoothing her petticoats out, Alorah got up and headed off to the washroom, not noticing that the force of the collision had knocked that scrap of letter loose, leaving it lying on the floor next to Shantae's bed.

[magicdancer]

Shantae returned from her practice with a towel slung over her shoulder. She was ready for a nice long shower, but seeing Alorah was occupying the washroom, she simply had to wait her turn. She sat down on the edge of her bed, bouncing on the mattress and kicking her sandals off. But then she noticed something next to her bed.

"A letter?" she asked out loud, picking it up. Alorah must have put it on her bed for her, and it fell off. She opened it up and began to read...

And read...

And read. Her eyes went wide as just what was written there started to sink in. It was from Inigo? He went through all this? Why was he telling her this now, like this?

[docilehearted]

Alorah had tended to herself as best she could -- it was nothing that a Potion couldn't fix. What she was really concerned about was the letter she'd taken. It would have been egotistical to think that she could fix someone else's problems, but she felt more than ever that she wanted to do something for Inigo. The question was simply where to start. She mulled it over as she left the bathroom... and froze.

She'd been so caught up, she hadn't heard Shantae come in. She hadn't noticed she'd lost the letter she'd taken. It took a moment to realize what Shantae was reading, but when the realization struck, it struck like a thunderbolt.

"O-oh! Shantae, don't read that!" Alorah blurted, positively mortified. She would have been happy to share anything about herself Shantae wanted to know, but this wasn't her secret to give away -- how could she possibly be so careless as to let Inigo's secrets get out?

[manforflowers]

Alorah may have planned to write back relieving Inigo of the pressure to reply, but the next day, as promised, there was finally a letter for the Jumpluff.

A thousand apologies for having kept you waiting. Even though I'd promised to be a fountain of words for you, I fear I have failed you. I admit, there are times when words feel insufficient. Where could I find the ones that would bring you joy or consolation?

It's not that I don't trust you with my sorrows. On the contrary - the moment I touch ink to paper, I feel a rush of memories that I can scarcely hold back. It becomes so easy to let my quill be consumed with melancholy that I can't help but feel irresponsible.

No soul is free from fear and doubt. But all I ever wanted to do was make people smile - surely that can't be achieved if I'm not smiling myself.

Though it's selfish of me to ask, there is one way you could help: I'd like to know more about you, secret admirer. Nothing so revealing as your name, of course! But I long to know more about the world you grew up in - was it peaceful? Have you travelled far as a nomad? Where did you spend your seasons? How did you come by your faithful pet? Did you have a favourite place, a favourite tree or flower?

It would brighten my heart to know that there are worlds out there untouched by the fell blight of war. The promise of such peace makes my trials feel worth it.

Gratefully yours,

Inigo of House Ylisse

PS. The cookies were delicious! I'm envious, you have quite the talent for baking.

[cottonhearted]

She was glad to hear from him, but this time, Alorah found herself having difficulty replying. She didn't want to lie to Inigo. She'd already done more than was forgivable, leading him into writing these letters in the first place and digging through his secrets. Some things, she simply couldn't answer honestly without completely giving herself away.

Others... Alorah found it difficult to talk about herself. Still, she could at least give Inigo the stories of a peaceful upbringing that he'd hoped to hear. Johto had seen some troubles with the Team Rocket uprising, but Gold had only found Alorah when he no longer needed Pokemon who could fight -- that particular bit of unrest had never reached her.

She did her best to write back promptly. The week without letters had felt so long, it was a little hard not to be eager to receive letters once again. If she could put that stressful week into the past and make Inigo smile like had those first few times, then how could she possibly make him wait?

Baking is one of the few things I can do. I'm happy to make things for you, if they bring you a little comfort. If the wait felt long, then it was only because I worried for you. The week felt strangely empty without your letters, but you haven't failed me at all, Inigo. It's enough that I get to hear from you now. If your memories are too heavy to write down, then you don't need to burden yourself on my account. I'm happy to share mine. If I leave anything out, then I do it only to stay a secret.

I've lived a blessed life, I'm sure, happy and peaceful as it's been. I was born on a quiet ranch, far from any cities. Chance took me away from my family at a young age, but my siblings and I were always meant to go to different households. My parents were prepared for me to leave someday, and I imagine that if I met them again, they would be happy with where I ended up. I've had to leave a few families in my life, but I've never had to know a lack of love. I might be on my own now, but I have a place to return to, and someone I'd happily serve for the rest of my life.

To be honest with you, though, I haven't even traveled near as much as my kind normally does. There was a time when I planned to cross the sea with my flock, but I ended up with the boy I serve now instead. He was traveling himself at the time, actually. Many people set out to travel their region as a coming-of-age tradition when they turn ten -- the regions are all safe, and none of the children ever travel completely alone.

Of the few places I've seen, I most loved the coast, I think. The mountains were dangerous and cold, full of unpredictable winds, and the city trampled me underfoot. This city is kinder to me, but I'm also not as small as I was back then. The coast, on the other hand, was lush, green, and wide-open. The horizon went on forever, but it felt very safe. Maybe it felt safe because of that? I do have a favourite flower, but I think I should keep it a secret for now. Maybe I could ask about yours instead?

Happily yours,

Your Secret Admirer

[manforflowers]

Inigo read the letter over, then other again. What a strange land she must've come from, and what strange customs. At first he could only interpret what she described as a coming-of-age tradition as something like the Shepherds - but with less fighting and peacekeeping and danger... so, actually nothing like the Shepherds? Still, the boy must've been a young lord of some sort, to be accompanied by such loyal followers. He recalled his mother telling him of the late Khan Basilio, and how he travelled far and wide, amassing the worldly experience that served him well as Khan of Regna Ferox. It seemed like a similar wisdom that must have presided over lords of her world as well.

The description of her family puzzled Inigo as well. Siblings that were destined to leave each other for different Houses, no doubt trained for some purpose. Was it political? A matter of custom to give up their children to these lords? The notion of being separated from your loved ones in the name of tradition seemed inherently sad to him - but it didn't seem to bother his secret admirer very much. So long as she was happy, that's all that mattered, right?

Well, she could expect a letter the next day, along with some shortbread in pretty bundle.

It feels as though baking is quite a popular past time in these parts. Maybe I should learn how to bake as well! Rather unfair that you can shower me in sweets and I can't do the same. For now, I'll have to make due with this modest batch of shortbread cookies I bought at a local bakery.

What an idyllic world you possess! If only I could see it! Even the ranch of your youngest years sounds like a sweet haven to grow up in. Fair fields among the rolling hills are among my favourite places to be. To see them green with life truly captures the beauty of the countryside.

Do you ever think of your family, your departed siblings? Do you think there would ever be a chance for you to meet them again? I hope that you can. I think it would ease their hearts to proudly look upon the fine young woman their daughter has grown into.

From what you tell me, it seems as though your people hold a well-travelled life in high esteem. There's wisdom in this - experiencing the world is one of life's greatest privileges. To see and learn so much broadens your horizons in every way. All the better if you can do some good wherever you go, too! Perhaps that was one reason I became a mercenary... if my sister is to lead the realm as Ylisse's exalt, she can't go running off wherever she pleases. Perhaps I could better serve her if I could bring such worldly experience back, was my reasoning. Though she'd probably think I took leave of my senses if I reported the details of this strange city to her!

Did you know, the iris is Ylisse's national flower, and its namesake. Actually, I suppose it's a bit of a stretch to assume anyone of another world could possibly know. Some say even the Brand of the exalt bears resemblance to a stylized iris. As a child, I grew up surrounded by them, both in imagery and in the gardens. Perhaps it's simply out of nostalgia for those happier years, but they've long been my favourite flower.

Yet as the years passed and the dreadful war waged on, the land grew barren. The flowers I loved as a child all died off, save for only the most persistent of weeds. Even still, those weeds were dear to me... I could only mark the passing of my mother with dandelions and thistles, but I was grateful to them.

Oh, forgive me for rambling. Anyways! You can only imagine how happy I am now, smothered in such abundance of flowers! I'm afraid my curiosity for your favourite flower is eating away at me. Perhaps I could wager a guess! It must not be a common favourite, or there'd be no fear of being found out... what about Gardenias?

Yours in health,

Inigo of House Ylisse

[cottonhearted]

Alorah may not have possessed a very big appetite, but it was such a nice feeling to be on the receiving end of a gift for once that she couldn't resist, savoring them nibble by nibble as she mulled over Inigo's letter. There was a lot to think about in those elegantly-written words again. She found herself going back to his older letters once or twice, not just for the sweet sentiments they contained, but to look over the wax seals she'd been so careful to keep intact. Irises...

But he'd had nothing but thistles and dandelions to lay on his mother's grave. As a dandelion herself, Alorah may have loved the humblest of flowers dearly, but she certainly didn't entertain any delusions about them. A person as beloved as a mother deserved roses, lilies, carnations. To have to settle for roadside weeds wasn't right, was it? If only a few seeds had remained in the future he'd come from...

...Come to think of it, it was getting to be the perfect time of year for planting. The idea of it sat warm and tempting in her heart. Surely flowers would make Inigo happy, after all, and what better way for a flower Pokemon to speak from the heart than with a fellow flower? There were some things that were beyond her reach with just words alone. The letters she'd seen in his wastebasket, for example, and the heavy burdens they contained. The tossed-away notes on dance steps. The baffling way he'd behaved when he was found at the Dance Club practice. The split-second glimpse where she'd been almost positive she'd caught tears in his eyes, before it had been buried away for the sake of protecting them.

Irises seemed like the obvious choice, if they were the flowers he loved most. Was it too obvious? They were beautiful, all the moreso if they had such personal meaning for him, but it did seem a little unfair to have that answer when she couldn't say a word to him about dandelions. Maybe not his favourite or her favourite, then, but something that could be a bridge between them...?

Alorah's letter was a few days late this time around. It took her a little time to find the gift she'd decided on. The letter was accompanied by another, smaller envelope, this one containing flower seeds.

[docilehearted]

I didn't expect such a charming gift! Whether you baked them or not, they tasted even sweeter knowing they came from you. Shy as I am, I still found myself thinking they would be best shared. It's just a flight of fantasy, but maybe if fate lets us visit the fields of my home... well, I suppose it's just a daydream.

It may sound strange, but you're the first person to ask about my family. I'm almost unsure how to answer. I think of them, of course. There are times when I miss them, but dwelling on it feels selfish. I'm only one of countless sons and daughters who were never meant to stay with their families. Why should I get to have what the majority of us won't have? My life has still been a happy, secure one, even if my bonds have been transient. Maybe I've had a few roots severed, but the sun's warm on my leaves, and I hope that I've scattered seeds in places that wouldn't have known wildflowers without me.

Speaking of flowers, gardenias are certainly lovely! I do love white flowers. There's something humble and pure about blooming into a blank canvas, don't you think? They're not my favourite, but I think if you were to keep guessing, then we may never stop trading letters. I know I'm being unfair, so maybe this little gift can make up for it. The flower seeds I'm sending to you are neither irises nor the flower I love most, but they are a promise to you. They're hardy flowers. I'm sure that with enough sun, they'll thrive. It's a bit of a long wait, but by summer, you should have a bouquet.

I hope dearly that you'll accept the invitation they bring when they bloom. If you do, then maybe I could tell you about my favourite flower myself?

Faithfully waiting,

Your Secret Admirer