An Introductory Note from the Author: After careful consideration and in response to reader comments, for the sake of clarity I have reverted all characters' names to their cannon versions/spellings regardless of whether that name was historically/geographically common at the time. (For those interested, the originally-conceived tweakings are on my Tumblr account.) The gents tend to refer to one another by surname. Hope this helps!

'Flowers' revealed: Iris - Ymir; Peony - Mikasa; Lily - Historia; Poppy - Sasha; Crocus - Annie; Orchid - Mercedes [OC].

Chapter 12: Springs Eternal

(Armin Arlert)

It was a quarter to Three. How they'd managed to fill the silence without speaking of Smith's arrangements with his favorites from the Carousel, Arlert didn't know. There had been no doorchime. Arlert had seen Smith glance at his pocketwatch a few times, telling him that despite his avoidance of the subject, he too was concerned.

But Arlert couldn't stand it any longer. "Do you suppose something happened? I'm surprised Annie isn't here."

Smith sighed and briefly closed his eyes, standing upright from where he'd leant over the blueprints spread over the forest green leather of his desk. He seemed grateful that Arlert had mentioned it. "I'm not sure. She was one of the ones I was most concerned about, as well."

Arlert recalled that his carriage would be waiting for him by now – Young was always early – and realized there wasn't much more for him to see, here, if Annie wasn't coming. Miss Mikasa had thoroughly demonstrated Smith's somewhat redeeming intentions and thus there wasn't a reason for him to see it demonstrated again.

"No doubt you've much to do with regards to the wedding," Arlert said by way of beginning his exit. "I should let you get on."

"I've barely lifted a finger to be honest," Smith confessed. "Zoe – Lady Collingston, that is – never seems to rest – she always seems to have a project to work on. But yes, I suppose I've kept you here long enough!" he smiled. "We'll see you at the wedding, of course?"

"Of course."

Arlert's next movements were in a haze; Smith had escorted him to the hall, where at some point his hat had been returned to him and he had asked Smith to pass on his goodbyes to Lady Collingston. It was surreal to be performing such everyday acts within the context of all that had happened. The fact that he had said very little, in the end, of his arguments was exhausting and it came down on him like a curtain when he stood on the steps outside Smith's apartment. A breeze passing over his face stirred him to the brightness of the present moment.

And there, at the bottom of the steps, was Annie, seemingly as surprised by him as he was by her.

"Miss Annie," he said, stunned.

She looked far less confident than he remembered her, and the effect was amplified by the rather shapeless plum coat that engulfed her petite form despite the pleasant weather. The matching cloche went some way toward hiding her face from him; he descended the rest of the steps in order to see her better. She was about his height, he discovered.

"Mr Arlert," she said, blinking at him. "I wasn't expecting you here." She looked down at the handbag clutched in her gloveless hands, "I'd hazard a guess that you weren't expecting me either."

For some reason, she made him bold again. The fog that he'd been moving through lifted enough that he felt comfortable broaching the subject, "Smith thought you'd decided not to come."

Her mouth, still with its coral lipstick, parted in surprise. She looked around her cautiously as though embarrassed to be caught here – for herself or on his behalf, he wasn't sure. "I…I wasn't sure there was any point to it."

"No point?"

Finally her face returned to the assured cynicism he'd witnessed before, back at the bar. "I'd overheard a couple of days ago that the…arrangement they'd made for me hadn't worked out. I didn't feel there was a need to continue to inconvenience Lord Stohess any longer. He's done enough for me." At his frown she continued, "To be honest, I don't think I'm suitable for much else than what I am now."

"I don't think that's right," he said. "I don't think any of it is right, in fact."

Annie lifted her head and her eyes sparkled in the sun; the light gave them a sort of plea that he suspected she wouldn't allow herself to display. "Why?" he barely heard her whisper, and was surprised at the charge of her voice.

Arlert felt himself flush a little and held more tightly onto his hat. Despite this, he knew this was his chance to reach her. "He was saying how you were one of the ones he was concerned most about. He obviously cares for your welfare and I don't think it out of pity. Yes, what they'd originally had in mind fell through, but this isn't the end. There are so many other opportunities out there for you, if you'd think of them – if you'd allow them."

They moved aside to allow a couple with a pram to pass on the pavement. Annie didn't respond, merely fixed her eyes on his carriage not far away. He couldn't read her expression but it didn't seem alleviated by his words, which told him enough. A pair of songbirds passed overhead.

He knew this wasn't a conversation to have in the street of St Michael's Circus, but when would there be another opportunity? He couldn't stop himself. Arlert began again, "Would you really stay at –"

She suddenly looked at him, her eyebrows pinched and raised. "Do you need a wife?" she interrupted him, her voice quavering, seemingly unable to decide whether to be frivolous or pleading. He hadn't heard so much emotion in it since she had demanded his name two days ago.

"Pardon?" was all he could manage to mutter.

Her shoulders rose and she shook her head. "It's strange of me to say, I know, and quite improper, but – we need only have mutual respect, in this day and age, right? No one need know the rest. I could be useful to you. Didn't you say you were new to all this? I could ease that pressure. You'd fulfil your obligation to society, and you could do whatever you want, like me or not. I suppose it wouldn't be that different from what I do now, except I could see the sun."

Arlert's face was alarmingly warm. When he didn't respond immediately, Annie averted her eyes to her hands, shaking a little as she breathed in deep. He saw a barely-tempered sadness in her face.

"I'm sorry," she said after a moment. "Forgive me, that – that was a foolish suggestion. Don't let me ruin your prospects – I should focus on my own." Without looking at him she began to ascend the stairs as if for nothing more than to get away from him.

"You wouldn't be ruining my prospects," he found himself blurting, turning. "And it wasn't foolish."

Annie stopped a couple of steps above him and turned too. "No?"

She looked as though she didn't know what to do with this new information, and he decided that these few times that she had been taken off guard were when he liked her best. But what she had said – what she had offered – was it possible? She was right in a way, of course, but was it enough to even warrant contemplating? Would he be little better than Smith if he were to proceed with such a suggestion with no genuine feeling to base it on?

Yet…he wasn't devoid of feeling. There was a seed, there, that had perhaps been planted in their first conversation, and now – like the crocus through the last snows of spring – it was struggling to emerge. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but surely it was a good sign? Surely it was the best he – or anyone – could hope for? Oughtn't it be given a chance?

"You deserve to see the sun," he volunteered, and smiled at her.

As though coaxed out of her, gradually she smiled back at him too, testily.

Arlert calmed his unexpectedly heavy breathing. "You should go see Lord Stohess. Tell him that you and I should be fine on our own. I'll wait here."

Her smile was more confident now. "You seem awfully sure."

"Are you?"

"No, yet I'm fine with that, for once."

"Neither – and also – am I," he agreed.

With a broader smile Annie turned and ascended the rest of the steps and, within moments, was inside out of view.

Arlert was surprised to find that his smile didn't fade. He donned his hat and turned on his heel, heading to speak to his driver. All logic rallied against him in the face of what had just transpired – what he had just agreed to in not so many words – but he had never felt more certain about any other choice he'd made. Something told him that the risk would be worth the reward.

In the short distance between the apartment's steps and his carriage, Arlert was startled by nearly running into the Poppy – Sasha, he recalled. Her bright, curious face looked out at him from a rather old-fashioned, broad-brimmed straw hat decorated with faded silk flowers, and her brown eyes sparkled with recognition.

"Good afternoon," she said, and though she seemed to want to say more, presumably out of decorum she did not voice the source of her recognition. She dipped a curtsy instead and the pleats of her pale yellow skirt brushed her legs.

Arlert noted that instead of the pearls, the braided cord of a little drawstring bag hung from her wrist instead. He was fairly certain the pearls were inside, and wondered what safety Lord Stohess had secured for her. Something befitting their history, he hoped. He tipped his hat to her.

"A pleasant day, isn't it?" she quipped, and he enjoyed the way her natural charm came across unhindered by opium smoke, how clear her eyes were.

"Quite," he agreed, thinking back to Annie's own blue eyes. "It's going to be a beautiful spring."

A Final Note from the Author: I want to extend deep gratitude to everyone who has taken the time to read and review, and for sticking with this crazy idea to the end! It was only meant to be half this length, in all seriousness, and now here I am wondering about a sequel (or prequel). Anyhow, hope you have all enjoyed, and thanks again!