For the Rose

[false_kyllikki]

Kyllikki has moved the furniture in her room today, using all of her strength to press the bed into a corner and to move her boxes and her mirror while the Rose bathes and adorns herself. She has laid a soft rug on the floor so that it will not make their bare feet slip to walk it When the Rose returns, she will find the room quite ready for

Comments

[herfourthorns]

The Rose likes to take baths -- they remind her of being watered, the same cooling feeling against leaves or skin -- or perhaps of the earth coming up to embrace her roots, and now her whole body sinking to the bottom of the tub. It feels safe, somehow, to be covered in water, and sometimes she doesn't want to come out. But it it's never too long until she feels lonely and has to fancy herself insulted that no one has thought to keep her company; with wounded vanity and braided hair, perhaps she'll deign to come out.

[false_kyllikki]

"Oh--" gasps Kyllikki when the Rose emerges, taking her hands and inspecting the braid. "You have learned to braid it yourself! How quickly you learn, flower," she says, smiling.

[herfourthorns]

It's not exquisitely done, a little too loose and clumsy, but she's proud to have done it all herself -- everything else she's fine having done for her, but she wants to look beautiful on her own. "It's not too difficult. I fancy I must be a natural at it ..."

[false_kyllikki]

"You must be," Kyllikki answers, seriously. She inspects whatever the Rose is or is not wearing--perhaps she's nude as a flower, perhaps she's wearing a loose robe or one of Kyllikki's dresses--and decides that whatever it is, it will do. "Would you learn to dance, as well, flower?"