Amazing For Those He Holds Dearest To Him - Tumblr Posts

Chevalier+ flower crown + 🌷

thank you!

A/N: He won the poll so his fic is first. I remembered how much I really enjoy writing him 💜

This is a contribution to the Spring Showers Spring Flowers CCC hosted by @aquagirl1978 and myself 🌷

Chevalier x child

WC: 785

Two horses stand on the edge of a field not too far from the palace. One is tall, the color of freshly fallen slow, with a mane and tail that ripple like liquid silver in the spring sun. The other is smaller, a warm chestnut brown with a bright, friendly gaze. Together they graze on the tall meadow grass, both keeping a watchful eye on their respective owners.

Chevalier is sitting at the broad base of a tall birch tree on the edge of the meadow, reading through the correspondence he brought with him. So far, nothing that requires immediate attention although he has several more letters to go. 

“Papa!”

He raises his eyes, the ones that mirror the rich blue sky above, to see his daughter picking her way through the green grass back to him. A few pale strands of wayward hair have escaped her long braid and he notices several grass stains on her white stockings. Her royal blue dress is likely hiding several more. He sets aside his work without hesitation as she drops down onto the red and green picnic blanket she had insisted they bring along on their ride. A practical idea and one that had paid off, he mused with the shadow of a smile on his lips. They had ridden further than usual and both she and the horses were happy for a break. Chevalier was pleased with her progress. She was becoming quite the equestrian, handling her small horse with calm certainty and aplomb.

“Look, Papa.” 

In her hands she holds what she has spent the last hour laboring over: a simple flower crown made of interwoven yellow and white meadow flowers. She turns it around in her small hands, the tips of her usually clean fingers stained yellow from the small, pigmented petals, as if she had been finger painting with sunshine. Chevalier points to the fluffy yellow flowers that make up the majority of the crown. 

“What are these?” He knows the answer, of course. And he is sure she does too.

“Dandelion,” she answers confidently. “It’s a common field flower.” She pauses, thinking back to the botany book she borrowed from her father’s library a few days ago. “They are perennials with a short life-span that grow in most soil conditions. They can withstand frost and freezing temperatures.” She raises her gaze to him, having exhausted the information she absorbed from reading. Now she’s ready to give him the practical information she’s procured from the field. “Their stems are good for flower crowns because they’re quite long and sturdy. I tried a different yellow flower, but there were not enough and their stems were too thin.” 

He nods, listening intently before pointing to the smaller, white flowers. “A keen observation. And what are these?”

Her brow furrows as she thinks, a trait that is so clearly her mother that Chevalier finds himself biting back a smile.

“I know they're daisies. And they’re also perennials.” A moment of quiet as she considers and he allows her the time to think without interruption or guidance. Then she remembers and when she looks up at him, her smile is brighter than any flower he can recall seeing. “They are very common but also welcome because they help crowd out weeds that can pose a danger to other plants or even animals.”

He nods, allowing the pride in her determination and intellect to curve his mouth in a gentle smile. “Well done.” 

She leans back, clearly pleased with herself and the praise from the man who means everything to her, then looks up.

“Would you like to wear it, Papa? I made an estimate when picking them and it should be large enough to fit your head.”

In another lifetime, Chevalier Michel would have snorted in derision at the very thought. A waste of time. A waste of flowers. But that was before he had met you, the person who brought color into his world of black and white. Before he had stumbled his way into the realm of truly and deeply caring for another person. But most of all, before the little girl sitting in front of him, looking back at him with his own eyes, eyes bright with something he had long been unfamiliar with, had never thought he would ever experience: the light of unconditional love.

And so the King of Rhodolite bows his pale head, allowing small, flower-smudged hands to place a crown of yellow and white flowers there. 

Because she made it, just for him.

Because it makes her laugh with childish delight. 

Because he loves her, with a love as bright and beautiful as a field of spring flowers, swaying in the breeze.

Tagging: @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @bubblexly