Chapter I

The rose girl

The long awaiting line of clients was diminishing and after the last one left with a huge bouquet of red asphodels, she managed to sneak behind the counter and continue her newspaper reading, the smell of roses never leaving her.

Going through the entertaintment column she remebered how people loved the smell of this particular flower, there was a time she did as well. But after working in the town´s flowershop since she was a little girl, no longer young enough to cause pity on those who she asked for food and shelter, now Odette could truly enjoy the smell only when she left the store, since outside was impossible for it to be stuck up her nostrils anymore. Hugo, her boss, insisted to believe every flower was special, trying to make her fall into his "flower religion"

-Every flower is unique, you know- he lectured, -As is every person. For you to work here, you must understand the art of identifying every customer with a flower. From the moment they come through that door, a specific flower is already waiting for them; all you have to do is find it…-

Odette would roll her eyes and ask:

-What if the customer wants a bunch of flowers?

-Vulgar of you to say bunch, no more… from now on, it is called a "bouquet", and it´s the same concept.

Pure nonsense, she thought, but to earn money she had to play his game. Luckily, Apolline was there.

Apolline was what one would call, a hopeless romantic, she would pretend every customer was in love with her, even if he was too young and when Odette was watering the flowers outside or cutting greenery to make "bouquetes" she often saw Madame Apolline writing letters from a distance, letters that after a week or so, she would send to herself and invite Odette to participate in the drama of "General LaFitte" who insisted he would take his own life if she didn´t reply to his marriage offer, or "Monsieur Lefevre" who said he would duel for her hand if necessary. At first, it was quite annoying, but Odette soon learned to appreciate the old hag.

She was the closest thing Odette had to a friend after her parents died in a fire, roaring flames consumed her house one night. Fortunately, people said, it had done nothing to scar her body, but Odette could still feel the sting of the warm hearth that went out of control and had taken everything she held dear; sometimes she compared that sting with the one she felt when touching a flower´s thorns.

-Pain will pass, little girl- Hugo said to cheer up her spirits

But they didn´t cheer and the pain stayed there, not crushing her anymore but forever present, like a dragon in slumber waiting to bathe her in hot flames at the slightest chance.

But… hunger and cold were different kinds of beasts, more like a pack of hunting wolves for they made Odette run and hide and yet, bloom from the sad bud that she was, or so Apolline liked to say.

Hence, Odette had to become a wolf herself.

A wolf with the smell of roses, Hugo often added when discussing her past with Madame Apolline whenever they thought Odette wasn´t listening. Truth be told "rosesmell", Odette´s nickname for the scent, WAS impregnated on her skin, on her hair and on her life now, probably from working all day long on a counter that had such flowers displayed all over it.

And yet Hugo, with his loony way of connecting flowers to every single individual that crossed his way, insisted the roses had picked her as their person.

-But not red roses, oh no – he corrected, shaking his long index finger in front on Odette´s nose, -yours is the blue rose. The rose for your eyes.

-You´ll see little one- Apolline would then say, patting her head as she gave her a pair of garden scissors, a bucket and leather gloves too big for her hands, -It is true, you don´t look red to me… One day, you´ll live in blue, you´ll hear in blue and you´ll love in blue.

"As long as my skin doesn´t turn blue…" she thought heading to the glassgardens, big crystal structures designed to maintain the heat within and prevent it from killing flowers during the long winters. Despite everything Hugo and Apolline said about blue roses and wolves in her temperament and her natural perfume, everytime Odette looked back on her life, there was only fire and bricks turned to charcoal, the smell of ashes suffocating her lungs and the moonlight to paint it all with its cold, lonely silver touch.

But one day, Apolline had brought newspaper to wrap some dead lillies that had gone bad a bit too soon and Odette saw on the entertainment column that a theatre troupe was coming to the little village, which wasn´t odd, being so close to Paris had the advantage of getting to see lots of the art perfomances that were on its way to the big city and yet this time, the troupe had as a special bonus, the participation of ballet dancers.

Odette felt the fire dragon in her move a little, pulling at her hearstrings… for her father had been a great ballet admirer, talking of its power to move people to tears and to shut someone´s mind using nothing but that touching gracefulness which made women look like flying swans and men like soaring eagles on a night sky.

But in the end, Odette gave in to the wolf that had allowed her to survive.

-Let´s go!- she had begged, Hugo and Apolline opposed at first… and yielded later when Odette threatened each one individually: Apolline, with writing to General LaFitte about her flirting with another suitor such as Monsieur Lefevre and Hugo, with telling Madame Apolline about how he compared her with an Egyptian cactus the moment she walked out the door after an argument.

And after that one night, nothing remained the same for Odette, she even came to like the crap of being a wolf with the smell of blue roses. For the ballet had soothed that fire scar from years ago and the firebreathing monster from her chilhood seemed to back away at the languid sound of ballet music, the dragon would lower its head to the flat silky shoes on wooden boards.

She could do it, she had to do it.

Maybe it was impossible for a wolf to tame a dragon, for a blue rose to defeat red fire. But Odette was a fighter, many said it, and she chose to believe it for if she didn´t, she´d end up believing the opposite.

Madame Apolline tought it romantic, Monsieur Hugo thought it idiotic, or at least he did until Odette promised him she would come back on winters to pay back what he spent, and of course, after Apolline swore she´d think about his proposal… the kind of which Odette wanted to know nothing about.

She enrolled on a medium level ballet academy, not a bad one to close every door she might knock on later, but a good one for the next target she already had in mind… The Paris Opera House.

After much preparation, that idle purple and orange afternoon was the last one on Odette´s life as a florist, at least until next winter.

Hugo bought her a new outfit and she liked how her small feet looked with her new shoes on.

She had grown a lot that year, her long legs looked pretty whenever she tried on the ballerina pointes and she had tied her dark and wavy chestnut hair in a neat ponytail that reached her waist; Odette caressed the cotton fabric of her skirt, Apolline had made it for her, a soft and practical sapphire creation that matched her eyes. Odette smelled it…

"Fantastic" she thought with annoyance "A day and a night in my possession and it already reeks of rosesmell"

Hugo´s parting gift had been more poetic, and also, most predictable.

A flower.

A blue rose resting encased in a red wooden box. –I dyed it myself – he said proudly, -using my special methods, it should last a month in that box.

Odette was surprised he didn´t give her an actual real wolf just to match the flower but she gave her thanks anyway, already used to his eccentric symbolisms and despite herself, she smiled sincerely to this man that had been almost like a grandfather to her.

-You can do it little one – he cherished her caressing her hair, as if she was still some 6 year old, -those wild pretty eyes of yours say they can take on the world. So go and do it.

Odette didn´t know if her eyes were pretty but she felt exultant that evening.

-Be always weary of men- Apolline´s last piece of advice, -you never know what they may ask, and you are as beautiful as a new made doll my child. As the maiden that came from a faraway star- she added to quote an old story she was fond of telling Odette long ago. But given Madame Apolline´s true expertise with men, she just smiled and nodded.

The next morning was all kisses and goodbyes, after Odette jumped on the back of a hay cart heading for the capital, a short 20 minute ride, she waved to Hugo and Apolline and as she looked at the bright sky, the white clouds seemed to smile and follow her.

Odette was no longer the rose girl, she even forgot about the wolf and the dragon, all the poems and all the warnings were gone for an instant.

She was only an amazed girl, drunk with life.

A/N Hello world! So, I´ve had this idea of a Merdette fic for a while now but I wanted to make it as romantic af haha, What do you guys think? Please, R&R!

Oh, and since English is not my mother tongue, I would reeeeally appreciate if you guys corrected me in spelling and/or grammar mistakes to help me improve present you a far better work,

Thanks a lot! ;)