A/N This is a birthday fic dedicated to my former guildmate animejenn, whose birthday was near the end of January. (With thanks to her in-game husband, IToshiro, for letting me "borrow" his character.)

So on that note, I hope you had a happy birthday, jenn, and I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Mabinogi belongs to Nexon. I own absolutely nothing in relation to it, except for the plot of this particular story. I.T., Valk, Toshi, Aizen, Cruzo, and Silver are not my characters; they belong to current/former members of the guilds Aroma or shadowlegion of Alexina.

Cover art created with Paint (dot N E T) and an image uploaded to Wikipedia (File:Night-blooming cereus paniniokapunahoa (dot J P G)).


~`* Blinding Fragrance *,~


Buying flowers seemed easy, but that was before he remembered he was dealing with Delen and Del.

"How is it?" Delen asked, with her ever present smile. Ever present, unless someone implied somehow that Del was better than her. Somewhere a little distance away, Del was animatedly and darkly beating away on something behind her counter, a clack, clack, clack heard every few seconds. When asked what her sister was doing, Delen smiled a little wider and said it was only a black-haired voodoo doll, before offering him another flower to look at.

I.T. hid a wince, and handed back the somewhat sickly green rose to Delen. "They're nice," he said awkwardly, "but I was looking for something that, you know, looks good…"

"'Looks good'? How is this rose not pretty enough?"

Clack, clack, clack

I.T. decided subtleness wasn't working. "Did you honestly expect me to buy something that looks like it'll throw up on me?"

Delen sent him an annoyed glance as she carefully returned the flower to its vase. Her emerald eyes seemed disapproving. "I can't help you if you're going to reject everything."

Clack, clack, clack

"Today's her birthday, I want to give something just as special as she is! And besides…"

"Yes?"

"Jenn's favourite colour is blue." I.T. gestured with one arm to the displayed flowers around the neat stall. Roses of every colour begged for attention; yellow, ochre, black, red, green, white, and even a disgusting tone of grey that suggested a bad meeting with a dye ampoule. Yet still, no blue.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're too late for those. I only sell blue roses during Alban Heruin and Samhain. Those are the only times they're in season."

Clack, clack, clack

I.T. groaned. "Okay, maybe roses aren't the best way to do this. Don't you sell any other flowers? Daisies, lilies, anything?"

"I'm sorry, this is a speciality shop, roses only. And I'm afraid you won't find any other flower shop until Dunbarton or Tara. Now, why don't you consider this one? Did you know that a pink rose signified grace…?"

And that, right there, was the crux of the problem.

Hearing something suddenly break with a crash, I.T. risked a glance to the right and spied Del giving him a slight glare. More importantly, her shelves were stocked with tulips, buttercups, a bouquet of cherry blossoms, and a lot other flowers he can't name. Rather sheepishly, he turned back to Delen and asked weakly, "No other flowers stores at all?"

"Nope," Delen said lightly, her tone daring him to argue back and face a force mightier and scarier than a Black Golem. And if Del was a Blinker, by now he would have died to a point beyond the resurrection powers of his Milletian heritage.

Despite his many years in Erinn, I.T. just hadn't realized the full extent of sibling rivalry. Sure, his Aroma guild mates Valk and Toshi squabbled, sometimes annoyingly so. But he had assumed that competition was a healthy producer of amiability - and in fact, I.T. had seen those two work together better than most.

But the sheer animosity between the twins Delen and Del took it to a whole new level. He heard rumours, but actually being a customer for once, he concluded that they weren't gossip, they were fact. So based on these facts, his immediate future was this:

If he bought from Delen, he might start finding some anonymous hate mail stuffed with dangerously volatile fertilizer.

If he changed stores from Delen to Del, he might find himself blacklisted with a reward big enough to buy a forest.

Once upon a time, these kinds of fears were laughable. Then came the Erinn Martial Arts Competition, and then came the horror stories. So far nineteen people I.T. knew had suffered permanent concussion, twelve guys had suffered a merciless strike to the "weak spot", and one developed an intense fear of flowers after choking to death from having one stuffed into his gullet, all from the "harmless" twins from the city of art.

So perhaps the best way out was not to buy anything…in which case, he'd have an irritated goddess waiting back home.

Business was scary.

But it was for Jenn, so it was worth it. As long as he could find something she liked, he could stand up to whatever wrath he might incur upon himself. And he was so sure a good, complementary flower was the right answer.

There will be nothing that will stop him from getting one today!

Buuuut it wouldn't hurt to avoid getting a price on his head. So maybe, the first thing to try was to convince Delen to put his interests before the sisters' conflict.

"Hey Delen," he began, "do you remember that day when I first asked Jenn to marry me? It was only a month ago. And the wedding was pretty small, too - an Aroma guild-only event, and it was just Aizen, Valk, Cruzo, Flare, and Silver watching. I remember - someone called out -" and here, I.T. comically lowered his voice - "'Uuuuuuse the riiiiing!'" I.T. laughed. "It sounds funny now, but back then I got all nervous, because suddenly my hands were sweating and I was so scared that the ring would slip, roll away, and someone would step on it, or something."

Delen bluntly interrupted with, "I remember you didn't order any flowers for the wedding, you cheapskate."

"I was on a budget!" I.T. hissed, embarrassed.

"Couldn't you have just borrowed some money?"

Unfortunately, the budget was the borrowed money.

Not mentioning this, I.T. hurried on. "The point is, even though it was small, I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it to be something Jenn can remember, and talk about, and smile about. I wanted everyone to see Jenn, and marvel at her beauty, and be awestruck by her sheer presence, and…" I.T. coughed shyly. "And…maybe even feel jealous, of me, because she was going to be my wife.

"And…that was the one day, where something I've deliberately done, the one largest choice that I've imposed on Jenn…it made her so, so happy.

"So I want to do it again. I want to give Jenn a birthday present, that will make her happy. I want it to be something that no one can pick better, something that will be honoured as an item Jenn will keep, always…"

After a moment, Delen nodded seriously. "I understand."

'Yes!'

"I'll have a special delivery ordered immediately from Kristell. With luck, they'll be here tomorrow morning and you'll even get them at an affordable discount."

'…WaitwhatNO! Tomorrow's the day after Jenn's birthday!' I.T. nervously stammered out, "Delen, isn't…isn't there a faster way?"

The flower merchant tittered. "What are you talking about? The commerce system makes delivery so easy now, you'll get your perfect present in no time! Unless -" and here, Delen's expression turned into a surprisingly nasty grin - "you want to buy from the…forbidden markets? I can't recommend it, myself…you could get really hurt!"

Which made it pretty clear that if he tried to buy from Del now, he should be very surprised if a hitman didn't strike him down on the spot.

But it's not like shopping from Delen won't make Del curse his mailbox for several generations.

And both Tara and Dunbarton was too far away, even on horseback. Jenn would be cross if he brought the present a day late…

One way or another, today looked like the day I.T. was about to make one girl very, very angry.

And it was all his fault.

Suddenly a loud crash sounded from the south, and as both I.T. and Delen's heads turned to the noise, some kind of siren started from the observatory and a male voice wailed, "Delen! Help!"

"Galvin?" Delen gasped. "Did he break the giant mermaid sculpture again? Oh no, he's going to be in so much trouble…" And, perhaps not realizing she was leaving behind her store and a customer, she ran to the observatory, following the sounds of a panicked male voice and a Klaxon that something was causing to crescendo.

And right there, was I.T.'s one possible chance of not making a mortal enemy of someone.

A slightly mad dash later, I.T. escaped from Delen's retreating figure to Del's stall, choosing to hide behind a pole that held up the sign, "Del's Floral Emporium (The Only Flower Shop Around!)". As he checked to make sure Delen can't see him from her vantage point, he hissed to Del, "If you value me as a customer, don't let Delen know I was here!"

Del was a perfect mirror of her twin sister, with the only exception of her slightly darker hair. So when she smiled at him, I.T. was creepily reminded of Delen with the exact same smile, like a ghost that will haunt him forevermore. "You're brave," Del said. "The last one to do that was a nineteen-year-old boy who didn't know any better." Del sighed dreamily. "I asked him to be my boyfriend on the spot. He was so lovely…"

As a Milletian, I.T. had little need for anything other than fighting skills. As such, the fine points of literacy, such as the significance of the word "was", eluded him until recently, when it became a self-imposed requirement for engagement. Now that he knew, however… "What happened to him?"

The flower merchant smiled pleasantly. "He died of natural causes, and was buried not too far from here. His grave is very pretty, actually; lots of black rose bouquets from sympathetic associates."

Up until now, he hadn't learned about the dark side of double meanings, either.

With a grimace quickly forced into a smile, he scanned over Del's wares, finding a couple roses that were similar to Delen's (though not in so much numbers), many that had too exorbitantly high a price for him (Aroma wasn't a commissioning type of guild), and some that just didn't seem pretty enough in Jenn's hands. To his disappointment, the bundles of flowers were all in tones of yellow, or green, or red or white - no blue at all.

"How come you don't have any blue flowers, either?"

"Sorry, I.T., I do usually have blue flowers during Imbolic, but sometimes they just sell out quickly."

I.T. felt like - what was the term? - facepalming, right there. What was he supposed to get now?

Suddenly, a new voice said, "Hmm, well, I don't admit to knowing much about wives, but I'd imagine any gift with feelings behind them would suffice." Nele, the local bard, gently clapped I.T. on the back. "Be careful not to send a misunderstood message, though! For example, look at this one…" He picked up a red flower that was stalwartly blooming out.

It was handed it to I.T., who grinned; he was not quite approving, but it wasn't too bad either. "Cheerful and expressive. Just like Jenn. What's this flower called?"

"That's a morning glory. It's supposedly a symbol of love in vain."

I.T. set the vase back down.

"How about this one?" Del interrupted, showing him a flower that, frankly, looked like yellow quills sticking out of a brown pin cushion. "It's a cactus dahlia, and dahlias are a sign of elegance and dignity. Isn't that romantic?"

"Del…" I.T. slowly said. "That looks like a porcupine. That's not good."

Nele laughed. "Shouldn't you be looking at the deeper meanings, instead of just how it looks?"

"How is this kind of eyesore supposed to make a good present?" I.T. protested. "I mean, it's true I wouldn't want to accidentally offend Jenn with some secret flowers code I didn't know -"

"It's called floriography," Nele supplied.

"Yeah, whatever. But if she can't hold it and not make it look like hay in comparison, then it's not qualified to be a birthday gift."

"Well, that's all right. Just pick a flower you think looks good, and I'll tell you its meaning. Would that help?"

Despite the warning looks that Del was sending to Nele, I.T. scrutinized his choices once more, and then pointed to one that looked like a black-eyed susan, except with white petals, asking the musician for his knowledge.

"That's an anemone. They're commonly used as a symbol of unfading love…except, other people also take them to mean 'forsaken' or 'sickness'."

I.T. pointed to another flower, this time a yellow rose similar to the ones in Delen's shop. "Roses are signs of love, right?"

"Generally, yes, and this colour is one is the most powerful of all - dying love. Though it can also stand for extreme betrayal."

I.T. winced again, and pointed to the cherry blossoms. Surely, such a pretty and exotic flower would be a perfect match for his wife?

"That's a peony. In some places it's a sign of prosperity and honour, in others it's one for shame."

"Nele!" Del finally snapped. "Stop driving my customer away!"

At the same time, I.T. groaned, his shoulders slumping. "Why, exactly, do all these flowers have contradicting meanings? Delen, for a flower merchant your stuff can't get worse."

The girl flushed. "That's only because you've been picking the cheap ones!" she cried.

"There's no point if the expensive ones look bad! That one -" I.T. pointed to a green potted plant - "looks like a pine tree, those ones -" this time, I.T. points to a bundle of flowers with too many stamen - "look like pink flower aliens, and that one -" indicating to a white flower with an overturned head, he finished, "looks like a flower with depression! Why don't you have something that just works?"

Del started sputtering, but the musician looked thoughtful as he observed the counters and shelves and displays again. "Ah ha ha, a difficult choice, hmm?" Nele murmured. "You must be the most picky customer I've ever seen…"

I.T. was about to make a retort, but then the musician went "Aha!" before picking up a vase.

Nele handed him a white flower with a large yellow carpel, something that I.T. previously hadn't given a second look at. A glance at the tag named its price as even less than the repair fees Ferghus charged him. "What's this?" he asked.

"The moonflower. Supposedly it can only blossom by Eweca's power, but since Eweca's influence is so strong on Erinn, this lives forever. It grows everywhere, too - it's even considered a weed by the Royal Florist Association, so I've no idea why Del has some in stock."

"Hey!" the girl protested.

Nele smiled. "It's also supposed to symbolize dreams of love, which isn't too bad a meaning by itself. But what's really nice is - well, smell it, and find out."

A tad dubious, but trusting Nele all the same, I.T. took a moment to inhale deeply.

…It was…a curiously hard thing to describe. But if I.T. had to guess, the first thing he would think was the enthusiasm of the scent - not overpoweringly strong, but by no means weak, either. Then the next details trickle in - a series of pulsating sensations that changed as smoothly as emotions. Curious…then exuberant, then playful, and then…caring.

The scent timidly held him, allowing him leeway…yet, there were traces of heavenly beauty, trying to hide behind its mortal containment… And…was that the beach? Just a tiny bit of the sea and sky, meshing together…into a magnificently blue horizon…

His eyes snapped open. "Th-this reminds me of…Jenn," I.T. exclaimed softly.

"Hmm? Well, I hadn't aimed that specifically. But it's a vibrant flower, and it's an unparallelled aroma."

Yes, I.T. agreed. A fine scent - a lovely homage to an elegant woman.

Del protested. It wasn't a gift kind of flower, she said. I.T. also thought that what she didn't say was, he was being kind of a cheapskate. I.T., himself, was slightly nervous at his choice. What he thought wasn't necessarily what Jenn thought, and he'd be upset if he didn't end up picking a correct gift, in the end.

But then again, that applied to everything. Picking one he sincerely regarded as the best gift is better than worrying endlessly.

And as he finally payed Del what he owed, said goodbye to Nele, and hurried out of the square before Delen saw him, the fragrance flared. He was reminded once again of Jenn. On the dirt paths of Tir Chonaill, Jenn was calling to him, her voice warm and affectionate, and laughing happily as she dragged him across the town square. I.T. was grinning, himself, as he furiously tried to hide a blush. It probably wasn't working, because she laughed kindly again, teasing him.

It was so like her. So gentle, yet steadfast; so amused, yet sincere; so cutely shy, yet magnificently outstanding. It was so warm, this fragrance.

A perfect complement, indeed, to the most blindingly beautiful of Aroma.

Fin