Melione sighed in contented relief as she pulled her white hair free from the tight pins that held it back, falling smooth and long down her shoulders. She didn't mind visits to Hampton, but the occasions often called for much more formal wear than she bothered with in Havelon.
She had long ago learned to ignore the unsolicited advice from her sisters on her attire, who always seemed to think her style choices were part of the reason she didn't have a husband. She found it hardly fair, considering Leferia was always showing as much cleavage as she could get away with, and she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Zylane without her hair wet, being a water user can be tough.
She did enjoy seeing her sisters, but as with any time she visited Hampton, she was exhausted afterwards, her energy for smiling and small talk worn out after only a few hours. Happy to be alone with her thoughts but not ready to return home yet, she walked a breezy meadow on Aurendel, enjoying the view. Melione hadn't walked far when she spotted something on the ground.
Knowing his mother would be gone for the day in Hampton, Atreyu had walked farther than he usually would from home. He knew Serab, his mother, loved the flowers in their garden - after all, he had planted all her favourites there - but he preferred the wildflowers. While she liked the manicured, even rows, he liked the variation in colour and size from the fields. While she was a creature of habit and structure, he was a free spirit.
Though their differences had led to many explosive clashes between them over the years, Serabi and Atreyu were extremely close: after all, they were all each other had. Atreyu had learned what rules actually needed to be followed to preserve his mother's sanity, and Serabi gave up trying to rein him in all the time.
One of the many battles Serabi had learned to let go was trying to stop Atreyu from sleeping outside. Since he was a boy he'd run off to play in the dirt and come back covered in mud, having been caught napping in a rainstorm. Even as a young man Serabi worried about him wandering too far, preferring he tended to flowers closer to home. Today was one of the rare days she was gone, so Atreyu decided to take advantage to explore further afield.
After a few hours tying flowers into bundles to take home, he lay on his stomach to watch the clouds for a moment, only to repeat the habit of his childhood by falling asleep in the grass. When Melione found him, he was sprawled out so haphazardly face down, had she been anyone else she might have thought he was dead. As the queen of the death and spirit, she knew this man was not dead and was not mortal.
She approached him, trying to get a glimpse of his face to see who this immortal was that wasn't present at Hampton. The heavy onyx scepter she held brushed against his bare foot, causing him to jerk awake. He groggily sat up, squinting against the sunlight in his eyes. She watched him, wondering how long it would take him to notice her as he started to gather his bundles of wildflowers. Hardly awake and clueless to the presence behind him, he turned on his heel to head home and gasped.
Atreyu stumbled backwards and dropped his bundles, so startled he nearly jumped out of his own skin. He froze, limps locked in fear, caught in the gaze of the woman before him. She wore a long black dress that was fitted at her slender waist with a thick, shining gold necklace tight around her neck with matching bands on her wrists. Her shoulders were draped with a black cape, blowing behind her in the wind and skimming the tops of the grass. It was a sensory overload, to suddenly find this strange and terrifying woman in the meadow, his brain struggling to keep up.
Most jarring of all were her eyes: what he thought at first were a blackish brown were actually a dark crimson. She look directly into his eyes, her gaze penetrating and unflinching.
"H-hello," he managed to squeak out, barely above a whisper.
"Hello," she replied, her clear, confident voice a stark contrast to his timid greeting.
Melione felt a wave of pity for the young man in front of her: he looked caught somewhere between confused and terrified. His messy brown hair had flecks of grass in it and flopped over his forehead onto his deep blue eyes. He wore a simple, light green tunic across his broad shoulders, his skin darkened by years in the sun.
Atreyu, still not sure he wasn't dreaming, looked down at her hands. Her fingers were covered in rings that glittered with precious stones, her nails painted black and filed to a slight point. Seeing her fingers wrapped around the scepter, something finally clicked in his head.
"You're her!" he blurted out in sudden realization. She stared at him, waiting on him to elaborate. "The queen," he added. "Of - of Havelon," he finally stammered out.
"And you're the prince of the Aurendel," she replied matter of factly.
"How did you know?" Melione looked down at the scattered bundles of flowers at his feet, then back up at him, Aurendel is famous for the plant user people after all.
"Oh," he said with a sheepish blush. "Right." He shifted in place when she said nothing. "Did you come to see my mother? She's at Hampton and won't be back for awhile. At least, I don't think so. I'm not really sure when she'll be back," he babbled, trying to fill the silence.
"No," she answered. "I was in Hampton today too - I'm just passing through on my way home. I'd been told this region was nice."
"So this your first time here?" She nodded once. "Well, welcome then!" Before she knew it, he had stepped up to her and taken her in a tight hug. Melione bristled; she had too many times had to avoid unwanted physical advances from brash men. When Atreyu pulled away, though, something seemed different.
No longer afraid, Atreyu smiled at her. Having had him pressed against her, Melione couldn't help but now notice his body: his broad shoulders, narrow waist, firm biceps, and a square jaw. Like a lot of Aurendelian men, he was classically and annoyingly handsome. Something about his face was different though: his smile lit up his eyes and was genuine, innocent, and without agenda. He was beautiful.
"Will you be staying long?"
"I'm on my way back to Havelon now."
"You have to take something back with you! To remember your visit." He looked thoughtfully at the piles of flowers at his feet. He looked back up at her, eyeing her clothes. This time, Melione felt exposed under his watch. After a few seconds deliberating, he pulled out a few red and blue flowers to match her sapphire and ruby rings, tying them together and offering them to her.
"You can press them if you like when they wilt," he offered. Melione accepted them, immediately recognizing his attention to detail in colour choice.
"Thank you," she said, perplexed by how friendly he was willing to be to a complete stranger.
"Oh, wait!" he plucked one of the yellow sunflowers from the pile and added it to the center of her little bouquet. "They're my favourite," he explained. "So you won't forget me." Melione couldn't help but give away a small smile.
"I'm sure I won't."
Upon returning to her castle in Havelon, Melione put the flowers in a small vase. After a few days, they started to wilt, so she took his suggestion and pressed them into a heavy book. All but the sunflower - it was too big to press, and it persisted days after the others. Every time she passed it, it caught her eye in her periphery. It was bright, beautiful, and stood out among the calm, dark hues around it.
Every time she saw it, she thought of his disarming smile: bright, beautiful, standing out among the usual quiet of her mind. She fingered the soft petals absent-mindedly. Perhaps she did not visit her sisters often enough.
