Happy Excuse

The view from the window was a thick blanket of white, a sight unusual for Burrowgatory. Even more usual was the sight of flakes still drifting down to rest amidst the growing pile, a steadfast fall that seemingly had no intent on stopping. Valentine’s breath fogged the glass as she pressed her head against it, the pane cold against her hair. Her reflection interrupted the snow in hazy glimpses, the light outside reflecting off the harsh white and allowing nothing near the precise reflection of the mirror on the door. Her imps would occasionally join her with hopeful interest before drifting off to do something more entertaining, uninterested in the unchanging world of white outside. Val couldn’t blame them.

Window watching might have been more interesting if the sight outside changed every once in a while, though the land outside was vacant of change save for the ever-growing level of snow. No imps showed their faces and no succubuns passed by underneath, the window facing a dense patch of trees beyond the flat patch of snow outside. The crystals that would usually signal the start of the day had only just begun to shine, a telltale sign that many were asleep. It made sense for them to be; the new year had left most to spend their days in a crazed frenzy as they attempted to finish their resolutions for a productive year early, leaving the nights to be spent in recovery from their eventful days. Valentine had noticed that most slept in - a fact she could easily attribute to the late-nights spent drinking and partying to celebrate the holiday as though it hadn’t long-since passed them by. Work at the Rabbit Hole had been strenuous, though many succubuns seemed to be inclined towards a new trend of generosity that filled her wallet with tips. Val couldn’t complain. It kept her awake.

Maybe it was something about the new year that had made her nights so strained. Val couldn’t tell. Mochi Moon itself hadn’t been a problem - spending the night curled next to her lovers always warded off the night terrors. It was only after that, when she needed to pick up extra shifts and couldn’t arrive home when Akio and Luka were awake, that she had to face the nightmares again. It was difficult to recall anything from them without a headache and a constant tremor in her limbs that Valentine was hardly equipped to handle, her day-life so absent of the horror she felt in dreams that she had no idea how to confront such a thing. She had struggled with it ever since she arrived at Burrowgatory, of course, but it was something she couldn’t quite figure out. She was sure it’d work itself out, someday. Maybe this year, her nightmares would eventually churn themselves into dreams.

Valentine needed an excuse to keep herself awake. The cold glass kept her from being fully comfortable and the snow was too blinding to rest her eyes; the coffee she’d had earlier chipping in with a quiet buzz of energy. Not quite enough, but… It would have to do. Val had no task today, something that nibbled at the ends of her nerves. What was she meant to do to keep awake? 

The answer came in the form of a ringtone.

Val recognized it as the one she’d assigned Dove, though she hardly minded who was calling when she pushed the button to answer it. The excited voice on the other line was reiterating news from Primrose - news about the ambrosia Valentine had worked to plant nearly a month ago. It was ready to harvest - something that needed to be done as quickly as possible to add to the stock for the new year. Valentine was almost too quick about leaving the house, held back only by her efforts to keep quiet for the sake of the rest of the house. It was silent this time of day, the rooms she passed by unlit and still. Light was only offered by the windows, the crystals outside steadily strengthening and flickering against the snow. It lit her way past the house, along the path and towards the elevator to the Heavenly Embassy. The cold nipped at her each step of the way, the uncovered skin of her face subjected to the sharp frost of the wind.

The elevator provided warmth for mere moments, though her layers of clothing made the warmth feel more akin to the heat of a kiln. Sweat trickled down her back, her hand instinctively wiping at her face when she could feel moisture dotting her forehead. The ride was much too short to consider taking off her layers as she knew the cold of the Embassy would be even more unforgiving, the altitude leading to a consistent coolness in relation to Burrowgatory at all times of the year. Even their summer felt just a bit more breezy than the popsicle-melting heat of her home, where swimming was almost a necessity to feel a smidge of relief on the hottest days. Their winter, by comparison, was their season to be miserable. Or, at least, visiting succubuns’ reason to be.

As expected, the opening of the elevator doors sent a gust of wind directly into her face, instantly combatting the warmth with a dangerous intensity. She could barely give herself time to adjust with the urgency needed to exit the elevator, her hooves and fur smarting as they met snow once more. Each step seemed intent on freezing her solid if not to propel her forward, the wind pushing her towards the greenhouse as though it too were insisting she be out of its way. The intensity of it all seemed worse than she’d experienced it each day she’d visited prior, the cold even keeping most cherubuns off the streets and out of her line of sight. She assumed most were bundled up safe and warm; perhaps in front of a fireplace with a thick blanket. The vision gave her the push to get inside that she needed, struggling to open the greenhouse door after fighting the snow accumulated in front of it. She could see Dove and Primrose inside, hovering over her patch of ambrosia. 

A final crunch of snow outside allowed her entry, hooves methodically dragged across the welcome mat to clean any remaining snow from them. Dove and Primrose both turned at the sound of her entry, watching her struggle to hang her coat on the hooks meant for the purpose. It was warm inside the greenhouse, though the sudden change still left her trembling and cold while sweat began its steady track down her temple. Hurriedly shutting the door behind her, Valentine made her way over to where the cherubuns stood, finally allowing herself a glimpse at the flowers she’d grown.

Breathtaking wasn’t enough to describe the blooms, their radiance and vibrancy overwhelming to the point of tears. Their colors ranged from a soft yellow to a bold purple, though each flower glowed with a power Valentine couldn’t even begin to grasp. Their luminescence was almost painful to look at; causing her to squint and shield her eyes as though staring directly at a crystal. She wondered if they were ever a fraction as bright as the sun they were said to smell like. The scent of vanilla was almost overpowering this close, giving the toxic flowers the appeal of dessert. Valentine knew very well that she couldn’t so much as taste a drop of it, just as cherubuns couldn’t have even a sip of liquor. It was safer to admire it; though it was much better to harvest it as she was meant to do.

“How do I need to do this?

Primrose was the first to take charge, kneeling in front of the ambrosia and prompting both Val and Dove to do the same. He presented three pairs of garden shears that he’d stowed on a shelf nearby. Each doll took one, Primrose handing them out. Valentine knew that Dove already knew how to handle ambrosia - they’d told her it had been a necessity to learn back in the embassy, after all, though they seemed content to let the other cherubun instruct. She was sure she knew the reason, of course; the greenhouse was his pride and joy.

“With time and patience. When harvesting ambrosia, it is of the utmost importance that you do not rush through the process; these flowers are delicate. Take your shears and cut at an angle, like such,” he slipped a stem between the two blades of his shears, angling his hand so that the blades were pointed towards the ground, “and do it one flower at a time. Once you are done, lay them in this basket,” he procured such an object from another shelf, placing it just next to his leg, “and allow me to carry it afterwards to prevent them from being jostled around. Make sure to cut low to preserve as much of the stem as possible - every part is precious.”

With his words, all three set to work. Valentine felt the eyes of both cherubuns on her as she struggled to figure out the best angle to cut at, though Dove’s gentle hands acted as her best guide. She could hardly watch either of them with how much focus she was putting on her own process, though, from the glimpses she caught of them, she could see just how focused they were as well. Primrose’s lips were tight and his brows were knit with concentration just as Dove’s were, a hint of sweat faintly visible on their brow in addition. They both seemed masterful regardless, cutting their stems with precision and having time for an occasional word of encouragement (or critique) for Valentine. Slowly, watching them for example, the flowers became easier. She found that their stems didn’t glow as much as their petals did, making the task much less complicated. 

Each flower was stored relatively easily, Dove and Primrose idly chatting once they had finished with their selection of flowers. Valentine finished only a few moments after, tuning in at last to what they were saying when she didn’t have such an important task to occupy her mind with.

“These flowers truly did turn out wonderful, didn’t they, Dove? Have you noticed the coloring on this bloom? These will make for wonderful ambrosia.”

“Oh, yes - I’m so glad to have helped you with them, Valentine… I’m sure this batch will help a lot of cherubuns,” Dove smiled as they addressed the succubun, their eyes on her rather than the flowers Primrose focused on. Valentine grinned sheepishly, joining the two as they began towards a separate part of the greenhouse with the basket.

“Really, I didn’t do much… I couldn’t have done it without your help,” she noticed a twitch on Primrose’s face as she spoke, a smile that was most uncharacteristic peeking at the side.

“Humility is an important virtue to have about yourself. One that succubuns often are lacking in. Acknowledging your own shortcomings is a valuable part of living a life of purity,” Primrose spoke with an oddly complimentary tone, one Valentine very rarely heard from his lips. He turned towards her suddenly, interrupting Dove’s attempt to speak with more words of his own, “I would like you to work with me on preparing these flowers for ambrosia. It will do you well to learn what each part of these flowers are used for - so that you may know just how important they are,” his eyes left hers for only a moment, spotting the cherubun next to her and deliberating with a moment of pause, “Dove, you may join us if you’d like. I know you prefer it down there.”

Despite the barely contained disgust at his final word, Valentine couldn’t help the grin on her face. She could hear the joy in Dove’s own voice as they too piped up, their hand finding her arm and squeezing it.

“Oh, I’d love to join! It would be such a delight!”

Valentine rubbed her eyes as the two walked ahead of her, internally promising herself a stop at Beanny’s after their work was done. In the meantime, she steadied herself to walk with them, barely containing a grin and a rush of excitement. She’d never made ambrosia before.