Title: Amaranth
Characters: Younger Mr. Ping and Po
Rating: G
Warnings: Some casual talk of death
Summary: As a child, Po asks his father about an eternal flower he's heard stories about.
"It's a flower that never dies," he tells Po one evening when he's asked. "Where did you hear about it?" He's fairly certain it hasn't ever featured in any of his stories. You can't make noodles from a flower, even one that lives forever. Well, as far as he knows, he thinks with sudden, odd inspiration.
"I heard Mrs. Yoon talking about it. How can a flower never die?"
"Well, it's just a story, to begin with." Mr. Ping laughs.
But Po's curious expression falls at that, like he feels dumb for even asking, and the goose quickly tries to make it up to him.
"No flower never wilts, Po…. but some of them do last a long time."
"…But they still die," Po finishes for him after a few seconds of silence, apparently not impressed or placated. Mr. Ping sighs, tilting his head.
"Why are you so interested in having a flower that never dies? I didn't know you even liked flowers all that much."
To his confusion, Po looks deeply uncomfortable, entwining his fingers and staring down at his blanket with a nervous frown. Mr. Ping doesn't rush him to speak; he feels completely out of the loop with his young son's thoughts. Finally, Po continues, but his voice is uncharacteristically small and wavers a little.
"I just… thought it'd be nice to have something that… doesn't die. That's around… forever."
For a second, it feels to Mr. Ping like his lungs have frozen; a heavy coldness has settled in his chest. Po is so young, too young to be worried about losing things; too young to be thinking about saying goodbye. Not for the first time, Mr. Ping wonders what exactly had led to the panda's placement in that vegetable basket.
Without a word, he opens his wings, motioning for Po to lean down (the only way he can reach his son's head or shoulders anymore). He draws Po into a close hug, laying his head against Po's shoulder with a sigh.
"…There are some things that last forever, Po. You just can't see them, not like a flower," he murmurs. This feels a little hollow to him, though. He thinks that perhaps that idea is not very comforting to a child. At least, it wouldn't have comforted him had the thought even crossed his mind when he was Po's age.
"…Ah, maybe that doesn't make it any better," he continues with an embarrassed laugh, pulling away from Po after giving him one final squeeze, once he notices his son is uncomfortable at this angle.
"So, how about this? I'll make you a flower out of silk- that way, it won't ever die. Hm, it might grey a little- but that won't mean it's fading away, right? And you can always see it and know that I love you… and that I always will."
Po has… an odd look on his face, residual but dwindling nervous gloom behind a slow understanding.
"...Y-you don't have to, Dad- I think... I'll be okay without an immortal flower."
"Are you sure?"
Po smiles brightly down at him, -. "Yeah... it doesn't have to be something I can see. Right? As long as it lasts forever."
A/N: good lord when you're used to just writing one character's thoughts and feelings writing a scene with two characters feels really unnatural ;;;