The Lonely Rose

Of but one thing may symbolize elegance, but is dangerous to those who do not know how to handle it. That object is the Rose. Refined is she, who longs for their grace and beauty. Tender is he, whom brings them to her.

For RemtheDeathGoddess – Happy birthday, my friend!

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THE LONELY ROSE

The silence of her home was heavy, the only sound being that of the rain beating against her window. Nature poured rivers from the heavens and showered her lonely mansion, as if washing away her past.

For long days, she sat by her window – gazing beyond the thick glass upon the green fields that surrounded her land, vast as it was from the family fortune. A quiet, desolate sigh escaped her rosy lips; she yearned to be free again. But by her own words, she bound herself from the outside world for fear of her cursed blood bringing more evil upon mankind.

It was a hard decision, however she had little to live for now; beyond her studies in chemistry, and the occasional fight with a thief seeking her wealth, there was but one other piece missing from her life. In her memory, the echoing songs from a small instrument played a sad song, a song of hardship and journey...It was a timeless melody, one that invoked mystery yet soothed her soul. Alas, she shifted in her chair, never breaking her soft gaze from her view of the raining realm of Earth.

After a short time of watching her rose garden be pummeled to the ground by the heavy rains, she turned her attention to the book in her lap. Taking the pen from the ink bottle that rested nearby, she gingerly pecked at the paper, drawing her favorite plant.

It had been so long now since she smelt the sweet and heavenly scent of one. Her longing to have a rose in her hands again was nearly overbearing. Despite her desires, she dared not break her word – honor was all that she had left in her graying days of solitude. However, her days would be better spent with the serenades she remembered, oh how she wished to hear such tunes – if only but once before her sadness and the lonely walls of her home consumed her.

She turned the page, dipping the pen in the ink before drawing a new object. It was shaped like that of a potato, with several holes across its body and a single tail that protruded from the back, presumably a blow piece. The instrument had plagued her dreams of late, the figure of a young man singing such wonderful music with the item, as if calling to her. But she locked herself in a cage, like that of a bird, she was trapped. No matter how much the beautiful music, or the refined essence of a rose called, she could not come...

Closing her book when the ink had dried fully, she briefly stared at the sword bearing her life force. It lay in whip form, spread across her study. It called to her, begging to be released...to be her ally in battle again.

But she shook her head. For the first time in hours, she stood, allowing the blood to fill her sleeping legs before lifting her dress slightly. Making her way to the door leading to her hall way, she placed the book on a shelf before opening the creaking door and stepping out.

The sound of a horse's whine came from a nearby window, causing her to stop in her tracks. There was a new horse in her stables, one she did not recognize the voice of. Someone had come to her home again... She made for her study, but stopped when she felt a presence behind her.

She dared not move, not until she knew what enemy had come to defile her sanctuary. The storm continued to rage, as if manifesting her thoughts. It was until a familiar sound came from behind her that she began to calm down, the music the intruder played...only one could play such a song.

“...Isabella.”

That voice, she remembered that soft voice. It was young, somber, and rarely heard in the proximity of others. Few had heard that voice, fewer had lived to hear it again. But it wasn't the voice of a thief, no... it was the voice of a young man with a heavy burden, a young lad who was her friend – one of the scarce few she could truly trust. A friend, whom, despite her past had stood at her side. A friend that gave her new meaning in purpose.

She lowered her head, the sound of water dripping behind her caught her attention. He was soaked, and she could smell the moisture flowing off of him. She sighed once more, maintaining her silence.

Finally, after waiting to ensure he wasn't a figment of her imagination, she turned around to face the intruder. Her old friend whom had helped her achieve her quest against the source of her cursed blood. Her eyes lowered upon the warm ocean blue orbs that gazed at her.

Her eyes shifted to his left hand, recognizing the blue instrument that she adored. Slowly, she raised her hand, brushing a strand of his golden hair from his dark blue eyes. The exhaustion in his features told her more than he could, he had been traveling for days with little sleep. Even now, his eyelids were constantly being pushed up.

“Link...it is good to see you...”

He stumbled back, shaking his head. Isabella grabbed his arm, holding him upright as he continued to fight his weary body. She began to lead him to her living room, where the fireplace waited to warm the young lad from his cold and damp journey.

“I have missed you, Ivy.”

---

The storm continued to rain outside, filling the thirsty earth with plenty to drink, yet destroying what was delicate. Ivy glared out of the window, her rose bushes were stripped from the heavy rain drops. Not one remained... The sight of her annihilated flowers brought about her ire.

But there was nothing that could be done, now. She sighed again, regretting her decision to lock herself away forever. Deciding to let go of her beloved bushes, she turned her attention to the shivering Link, whom was pulling his cloak off and hanging it near the fire to dry. She wrapped a towel around his shoulders, rubbing against his arms in an attempt to bring him warmth.

“Thank you...” He whispered graciously, shuddering immediately after as a draft struck him. He inched closer to the fire before settling down in the radiant glow of the hearth. Seeing him so cold irked her, just as another shiver wracked his form, she sat down next to him and continued to rub his arms.

For a long time, the two sat in silence as the fire cackled over the burning wood. Her thoughts drifted from the cold swordsman, delving deeper into her memory. A few years ago, she recalled being in a similar situation, having been caught off-guard by a sudden storm. After being swallowed by the flash floods, she was rescued by a young man with pointy ears and a strange hat.

She remembered how she was initially harsh, pushing him away and declaring that she needed no one's help. But her injuries were great, before long she had no more energy to fight him. Despite her desire to be left alone, he took care of her pains. Before long, she was healed. The wait for her recovery was long, though.

She regretted how cold she had been to the lad, recalling specifically how he had given her a beautiful rose as a gift, and likely an attempt to gain her trust – stating the flower reminded him of her. She refused it, however, telling him she wanted nothing of his. In truth, she was flattered at the thought, and secretly wished to smell the scent of the plant. It was a rare find in the area they had been in.

For awhile, she couldn't travel, especially with her savior watching over her. He was kind, doing all in his power to ensure she would recover, even sacrificing his own comfort for her own. During the wait, he would play his flute, and calm her suffering until she slept soundly. But even in the depths of her dreams, she heard the songs of his ocarina.

Gradually, she opened up to the boy. It was slow, but she eventually learned to trust him. In time, she found his company enjoyable, and was quick to accept when he asked to travel with her.

How ironic was it, years later that the roles were swapped. The only thing out of place was his lack of pride while she lent him aid, and the environment was much more pleasant. Then again, he was always a gentle soul, while she... her spirit was always wild, never accepting help from others and pushing them away when they tried to get close.

The boy's kindness and gentleness had indeed reached home. While she was with more restraint than before, her wild nature remained in her core. Despite that, she had learned to appreciate his kindness, for he always meant well. It pained her heart to see the guilt he wore when he was forced to take the lives of others, but it hurt more to know that she did not care about the lives she took.

Link was her opposite, the other side of the coin, as it were. He was a rare find to be sure, and like those similar to him, a one-chance opportunity. She was glad to have met him in the past, he really did make a difference.

“Ivy, I brought you a gift...Here, take it. It was the only one I could find.”

Breaking her from her thoughts, she watched as Link pulled out a cloth wrapping around something delicate. He handed the parchment to her, tightening the towel around his figure as she opened it.

Isabella’s eyes lit up, joy coursed through her as she held a hand over her mouth to hide her surprise. In the palm of her hand, a large rose rested – the head was slightly wet, she watched as the drops of perspiration rolled off the leaves.

“How did you...?”

“I managed to snag the little guy up, just before the rain hit. I hope you like it, it was all I could find.”

She stared in awe of the flower, the stem was a little ruffled but the bud remained healthy. She gingerly brought it to her nostrils, inhaling the serene essence of her favorite thing. Savoring the smell, she reluctantly exhaled – all the while her eyes had shut, with her thoughts delving into a peaceful reality. She forgot the storm, her vow of solitude, and any sense of loneliness that had tormented her for the years she spent in her home. For but a moment, she was at peace; pure of taint and free.

Ivy remained in her state of bliss for as long as was allowed, enjoying every moment. But, she did not forget her friend.

Sensing her joy at his gift, the warrior gave a small smile, flinching at a few deep cuts in his hand where he grabbed the rose's stem earlier. The rose had always been the object of her affections – in a way, he was saddened by this for he could never give her the joy a rose brought. He recalled every day he had spent in her company, traveling to stop the sword's evil from spreading. And though he felt the sting of her thorns, he admired her beauty all the same. He decided to try again when the sword was vanquished to gain her affections. Unfortunately for the warrior, his days with Ivy were ended when she departed his company, vowing solitude for eternity.

Her absence had caused him pain, as if he was too careful to pick the rose that grew so wildly, he was struck by her thorns for his caution.

Ivy inhaled once more, savoring the rose one last time. She opened her eyes, her passion having been revitalized by the flower. She found herself smiling for the first time in years, such content would not of been possible had Link not risked his health to find her.

Careful not to pinch him with the thorns of her rose, she embraced the cold swordsman. Link had been taken by surprise with her contact, not expecting the firm hug. He placed a tired hand over her own, gripping it briefly before letting go. He truly did miss her...

“Lad, you're a fool to travel so recklessly...but, thanks to you, my days will be brighter now,” Her smile widened when he turned his head towards hers. “How can I repay you?”

A long silence followed, broken only by his hoarse breathing. She knew he was gathering his thoughts, and wondered why he seemed to shake with hesitation. It was unlike Link, one of the bravest she had ever met – his courage was never questioned. Finally, he seemed to have reached a decision.

“...Let me stay with you. I don't want you to be alone, unseen and unappreciated. Give me the honor of your company, to which I long for – as you long to have a rose. Take my soul, Ivy Valentine, let me be planted in the garden of your heart.”

She felt her smile fade, her embrace tightened however.

“Your soul is too free, Link. A soul as tireless as yours, nomadic and energetic could not thrive in the confines of this manor. Staying with me will kill you.”

“I will learn to handle the thorns, Ivy. Let me share my love with you. I don't care how much it hurts – like the green stem, I'll hold onto the blossoming bud that is you."

She chuckled, her heart fluttered like a leaf in the Autumn winds. Her answer was clear now, but she had yet to receive one final gift, a single piece that was missing from the puzzle.

“On one condition...”

He perked up, turning to face her. He was still weak, but he seemed to be eager to fulfill any request.

“Anything.”

She laughed, sitting back and crossing her legs. Her dress hid her elegant body well, and for a moment, Link thought she was a rose growing on a lily pad in a summer pond.

“Play a song for me.”

A long smile graced his face, his eyes lighting anew with life. Not wasting a moment, he retrieved his ocarina from the depths of his pouch and brought the blow piece to his lips.

As the storm waged outside, the manor walls were filled with the timeless music of his legendary instrument, taking the mistress of the Valentine Mansion back into a peaceful bliss. As the music played, her sadness faded, trickling off her soul like water from the leaves of a rose.

With what had been lost, anew was placed. As the sun shined down over the tree canopies, small buds poked out from the damp earth. And thus, the new garden was born.