Chapter Text
Scanlan is 28 when he sprouts his first flowers.
Day lilies bloom soft white tinged with gold in a spray of color across his knees. He runs up to his mother on child’s legs, babbling in excitement and confusion, and his mother sits him down and explains the concept of soulmates. People out in the world that are meant to love you, and that you are meant to love.
A few years later, orchids join the lilies, although many more of them sprout than the latter. Blue orchids streaked with purple bloom from his knuckles and across his arms every other day.
Whoever they are, they’re certainly a bruiser.
Day doesn’t get hurt nearly as much. Occasional finger pricks bring small petals bursting on his hands, and he’s sure they both get plenty from him in return as he learns to play his lute. Calluses form along his fingertips after a few months.
When Scanlan falls out of a tree trying to serenade a lady, he wonders what flowers are blooming across the arms of his soulmates.
When the goblins come and his mother bleeds to death in his arms, he wonders if he’s a horrible son when her flowers don’t bloom on his body. Does he not love his mother enough to have her blooms?
Scanlan runs.
The town burns behind him, and he cries in the woods.
He didn’t love his mother enough even though he feels like he’s going to die from the pain of it. Familiar soft creamy petals bloom across his hands, orchids fall from his arms, and Scanlan resolves himself.
He will love them enough.