[Open Post: A Flower That Blooms but Once]

[mobled_queen]

There's a woman walking slowly through the gardens of the Mansion: red-haired and beautiful, even in her fifties; the sun strikes fire from the emerald necklace at her throat and the flyaway strands of her hair. There's a warmth in her eyes that invites you in, that says she could be a confidante and a friend--and, too, a shrewdness that seems to see through you as though you were a clear lake. She touches each late bloom and spray of tawny grass with careful hands.

A part of her knows that this is only a temporary visitation, more than a dream and less than a miracle. She wears a queer little pocketwatch on a chain around her neck, and it ticks down the hours until she must depart again.

Comments

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad is sitting on one of the little stone benches throughout the gardens, sketching the bittersweet that tangles through a patch Claudius hasn't tamed yet, climbing a trellis that was probably meant for something more distinguished like wisteria. He notices her late, as he often does when he's absorbed in something. He looks up -- she's new, he thinks. He doesn't remember red hair like this on anyone else.

"Lady," he says, politely, and stands to bow. There's a script to follow for meeting new people. He can do that well enough.

[mobled_queen]

"Hello," says Gertrude, making an elegant curtsy. "My name is Gertrude." She leaves off the Queen here; she has the feeling that this is not a place that recognizes her authority. "That's a good sketch you've made there. You have a good eye for plants. Do you happen to know any Danes around here who also have a good eye for plants?"

[onthewillowsthere]

He almost signs too much, as he would with any of his friends -- too many pieces of information at once, especially with a question at the end. But she's new. She won't understand. Instead he's quiet, taking all the pieces and arranging them: Gertrude, plants, Danes, Claudius, Gertrude, and the picture resolves.

"He will be here," he says at last. "He always comes."

[lightbearinglord]

On some days, Lan Wangji visits the gardens specifically to look for Claudius. On other days, he is there only to appreciate their beauty, and to feel silently fond of the work that Claudius has done to tame that beauty. Some of the plants here are familiar; others could have come from half a world, or several worlds, for all he knows, away.

This day has been an unusual one already. With the feeling of his brother's embrace still haunting his senses, Lan Wangji's pace along the garden path is slow, exceptionally measured. It comes to a stop entirely when he notes that he is in the presence of someone new, and he arranges himself into a formal bow once he knows that she has seen him.

[mobled_queen]

Gertrude smiles--an easy, natural smile; the crow's-feet lines around her eyes say that she smiles often. (Other lines suggest that this smile is sometimes a strain.) She dips into a respectful curtsy, long red skirt fluttering out to either side of her like a bird's wings. "Good morning," she says. "My name is Gertrude. Do you live here, or are you visiting, too?"

[aflashbastard]

Two new people in one day? That seems a bit much. Crowley looks around but there doesn't seem to be anyone else to welcome her. "Hi," he says, a bit helplessly. "I'm not the best person to introduce you to this place, but at least you've found the gardens..."

[mobled_queen]

"Oh, I'm just visiting," says Gertrude comfortably. "My name is Gertrude. Of Denmark," she adds, in case that rings any bells.

[sporesprouter]

Seeing a new arrival as she's taking a walk outside is hardly a new experience for Tress at this point, even if this feels different in some undefined way. Today has felt different in some undefined way, but she won't let that deter her.

She smiles at Gertrude. "Hello and welcome. Even if this is probably not where you were trying to go."

[mobled_queen]

"Oh, no, I'm only visiting," says Gertrude. She turns and smiles at Tress. "My, what magnificent hair you have! You clearly take excellent care of it. My name is Gertrude--what's yours?"

[sagramore]

Sagramore had Fenyes out for a ride, but he's walking alongside her right now, leading her by her reins -- her gait is off and he's fairly sure the issue is that she needs a farrier, so she doesn't need the extra weight. He's going to have to see what he can find in the library on trimming hooves and replacing shoes.

When he sees Gertrude he bows -- she looks like a bow, not a handshake, sort of person. "My lady."

[mobled_queen]

"Well, hello," she says pleasantly, with a little twinkling wave. "Heading out, or heading in?"

[wickedwit]

The squirrels have left the tulip bulbs alone. Claudius doesn't have to cast disparaging remarks in their direction again, or pitch his voice loud and passive-aggressive about how some squirrelish gentlemen never learned to finish their meals with grace and etiquette before leaving the nest. If the squirrels understood, that might shame them out of leaving half-eaten bulbs in the grass, but he still needs complete ones. He needs tulips for the spring. He needs red and orange tulips, and even though he's more inclined to tell animals this sort of thing than people, it's because those are the colors Gertrude liked. He thinks she liked them. He thinks he made the garden in Elsinore a beautiful place for her, a place she could dwell in and admire, before it became the place where King Hamlet took his customary midday sleep.

It was a bitter little jab to poison him there. Claudius can admit it to himself, if no one else. He didn't belong there, the way the bulbs the did, the way the red and orange hues belonged there. Someone, in some backwards court, said women with red hair shouldn't wear red, and that person was a fool. When Gertrude wore red, she was like a candle-flame, arresting and complete.

Those thoughts won't serve him here, Claudius reminds himself. It's the change in seasons. It's how he used to come home to Elsinore with bulbs and seeds, until it became a tradition, with neither of them declaring it one. It's a talk he had with her once, where he wanted to say I save everything for you. Every seed, every story, every short-sighted assignation, because I want to share the world with you. Even then, it was foolish.

That's when he sees red hair, and a red dress. He schools himself to realism. Another day, another newcomer, just like Susan in black -- be realistic. "Greetings," he calls.

[mobled_queen]

"Well, that's an awfully formal way to greet your sister," says Gertrude dryly, and then she sweeps Claudius up into a tight, tight hug.

[temnota]

A quick peek in his room showed no Baghra so Aleksander took the opportunity to change out of his sleep trousers into proper attire. Still afraid to run into his mother again, he left the Mansion by a side door and made his way to a place he hadn't often visited - the gardens.

There was a woman there, one he had not seen before. Distraction from his thoughts was more than welcome so he swept her a bow and put on his best manners. "Hello and welcome."

[mobled_queen]

"Hello," Gertrude answers easily. "Out for a stroll? Lovely weather today."

[quote_gentle_unquote]

Susan is doing her inventory of the grounds, debating wandering off to the more sequestered and unused of the gardens, when she spots the woman there. Her bearing is regal: Susan would recognize that sort of poise anywhere. Oh, she doesn't know who the woman is, but she knows the shape of the burden she has shouldered. She slips her notebook into her pocket and her pencil back into her hair.

"Hello," she says, and curtsies, one queen to another.

[mobled_queen]

"Hello," Gertrude answers, grinning as she mirrors the curtsy. "A pleasure to meet you. My name's Gertrude."

[rememberettersberg]

Nightingale has been wandering the grounds, mulling over the strange events of his day thus far. He's not really in the mood for new people, but politeness compels him to raise a hand in greeting. "Hello," he calls. "New here?"

[mobled_queen]

"Just visiting," says Gertrude, waving back. "Enjoying these beautiful gardens. I take it you're a resident, and not a visitor?"

[protagonisthalo]

Luo Binghe is feeling quite pleased after speaking with his favorite wife (except perhaps Ning Yingying—but he is so glad to have seen Liu Mingyan that it is easy to call her his favorite). It is, therefore, with a light heart that he greets this newcomer. "The gardens are beautiful, are they not?"

[mobled_queen]

Well, here's a fine young man. Gertrude is too polite to give him a thorough once-over, but she does notice. How could she not? "They are," she agrees. "It's winter, where I come from, and all the flowers are spent. So it's nice to get a little breath of autumn." She trails her fingers over the skin-soft petals of a late yellow rose. "Do you come here often?"

[lanselos_du_lac]

Lancelot sees a lady walking through the garden -- clad in red, and red of hair, and he knows he doesn't know her.

So he does as he's supposed to do, in his everyday tunic with his sword at his waist, and goes to her. He stops a ways away and says, "Good day, lady. Have you just arrived?"

[mobled_queen]

"Yes, but just to visit," she says, laughing. "Don't worry, I don't need the whole 'inescapable mansion between worlds' talk. My name is Gertrude--what's yours?"

[socialjusticedragon]

Someone else can generally be found in and around the gardens of the Mansion, and that someone happens to be a large black dragon who is still wrestling with The Social Contract. (It's not the words, only the size of the book that he's having trouble with.) But he spies another (new?) arrival in the distance and tilts his head a little, waiting until Gertrude gets a little closer so as not to startle her.

[mobled_queen]

Gertrude does startle, though, when the dragon that she'd taken for a rather ornate sculpture suddenly moves. "My!" she says, hand to her heart. "Are you friendly? Or should I be running?"