Blood and Bone

Strelitzia hadn't touched her tea.

Marluxia wasn't surprised. She rarely did, these days, ignoring both the delicate floral blend and the finger sandwiches set before her. As his heart no longer nagged at him, hunger and thirst no longer nagged at her, although he thought perhaps his current work might have put her off her meal regardless. He couldn't blame her. For all she understood what was needed to keep a proper garden, setting the bone crusher up beside their luncheon had probably been in poor taste.

Still, Marluxia needed to observe his work. Quality fertilizer was a necessity, after all. He had to ensure the vines did as they were told, tangling about the reel as they ground femurs, skulls, and ribs into dust.

Back in Daybreak Town—when he was Lauriam and hadn't surrendered his heart for a third time, when Strelitzia had been bright and happy, untouched by the cruelties of the world—they had done this with a water mill. They did not have the luxury of such things now, deep within the distorted, labyrinthine Castle Oblivion. The remaining Warriors of Light and their allies might search far and wide, but Marluxia had followed the mad thread of his memory deep into the castle's bowels and rendered himself untouchable. Even he was not sure he could find his way out, having stared too long into the abyss of remembrance and forgotten which rooms he had made, and which he had not.

How fortunate, then, that he did not wish to leave.

The room that had formed around them was grand, offering a nostalgic view of flower fields stretching endlessly toward the horizon. The city that had existed beyond those sweet meadows had fallen, consumed by countless cherry trees and shrubbery, its ruins feeding his hungry flora. Marluxia and Strelitzia observed it all atop a hill, sitting in their tiny bower. This was where they took their tea, surrounded by enormous, twining flowers that created a canopy, and hedgerow like a picket fence. Rosy trellises and floral arches marked the entrances, and at his command drooping flowers covered the window that looked upon the fields, providing them a little privacy. A stream wound through their sanctuary, sunbeams dripping from the foliage to dapple upon the grass below. Loamy flowerbeds sat at the foot of the hedgerow, earth ploughed and ready to be sown. A cat mewed quietly upon a cushion in the corner, old and dying but tended to kindly. Marluxia doubted he would suffer much longer.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Marluxia said, sipping his tea. "Our secret garden where we control all, and where none shall ever find us nor part us again."

Strelitzia was silent.

Krcck. Krcck.

The bone crusher went round and round. He had already treated the remains—blood, viscera, flesh, bone—to ensure they would nurture the flower he intended to plant. He would allow only the best for his most precious blossoms—a bouquet for the queen of his hidden paradise.

"I wish you would speak to me, Strelitzia," he said. She stared blankly at her cup, head bowed. He frowned. She had changed, but still he loved her. What else could one feel for a sister? Even had she not kept her promise to carry him upon her back, he would treasure her until Light and Darkness faded into nothing and Kingdom Hearts crumbled away.

All the same, he longed to see her smile. She rarely moved on her own, but if he concentrated he could help her. He ignored the parts that perturbed him as he did so—dismissed the curling green that spilled from her palms, running through her limbs like branches supporting the leaves of her flesh, skin, and bones. He did not comment upon her strange attire, although he wondered if the boyish garments were truly to her taste. Her hair he did take note of—shorn short and shining gold.

"You look like a dandelion flower," he said, and reached out to cup her head. "Were you hoping to catch that special friend's attention?"

She did not reply, nor grow flustered like she would have in the old days. She didn't smile either, though he thought she tried.

Krcck. Krcck.

Marluxia wished she would do something. He focused, and her hands curled around the cup, fingers bent at strange angles. Carefully, she raised the fine-wrought porcelain to her lips. The liquid drained, spilling over the greenery that adorned her lips. Such pretty buds and sprouting blossoms. The scent of roses wafted through the air, and he sighed. His hand slid from her hair to her cheek, and he felt the weed of humanity deep within his withered heart. It cried out, wept to see the green gone from Strelitzia's eyes. "But isn't blue lovely?" He said, smiling. "We match now. You always wished your eyes were like mine. Truth be told, I always wished mine were like yours."

Krcck. Krcck. Krcch—

The bone crusher fell silent. The vines had determined their work was done. Now, Marluxia would take the treated bone meal and sow it unto the earth, sprinkling it with water—earth and water, the bone's kin.

He needed to ensure the flowers were ready, however, so he took Strelitzia's other cheek in hand and stared into her empty eyes. Her lips parted further, the grand vine that formed the trunk of her body splitting into countless smaller curlicues. More sprouts joined those early buds, leaves unfurling rapidly. Dandelions, white roses, and cherry blossoms nestled close to willow catkins, pale sweet-brier, and aromatic tussilage. They spilled from her mouth in a glorious bouquet, beautiful as the floral crown that sprouted about her temples; brilliant, bright birds of paradise.

The human weed in his heart cried out again. Bound in chains and drowned in ice, denied his right to bloom, he somehow still found the strength to plead for mercy.

It wasn't his fault. His friends were only trying to protect him. Please put them to rest. She's already gone, and this would only make her cry. 

Marluxia did not understand his pleas. He ignored him, rising, and Strelitzia followed like a puppet on a string. She floated over the table on viridian wires and came to rest in his arms. He cradled her close, whispered words of comfort as he carried her away from their luncheon to where the loamy soil lay waiting. 

Three Keyblades stood as garden stakes, each offering a gift—a blessing from the falling rain, an oath from the earth that shakes, and a gentle kiss from the wayward wind. Flesh, viscera, and blood meal all mingled with the soil, feeding the vines as that crept from Strelitzia's body. Marluxia set her upon the middle stake, the kiss from the wind, and let her vines twine with the others. They curled around all three Keyblades before digging into the dirt, becoming roots in the process.

Marluxia gathered the treated bone meal—shattered pieces of the ones who had tried to keep her from him, who had tried to protect him—and gave them his magic, his love, before casting them upon the soil. The roots themselves churned the fragments into the flowerbed, feeding eagerly. Perhaps they could taste the lingering affection of the ones who had died to save a friend.

To fail a friend.

Marluxia left Strelitzia then, but only to gather up the last of the rose tea and pour it at her feet. He smiled as she drank it up, looked upon her bouquet face and felt at ease. He set the teapot back on the table, and turned to her once more.

The human weed inside him struggled, choking in his chains. He strangled, withered, died with tears on his tongue.

Ven, I'm sorry...

The cat was gone. That was okay. Dream Eaters were prone to dying alongside their masters. But was that one mine, or his? 

Marluxia ran his fingers through the flowers spilling from Strelitzia's mouth, then took her face in his hands.

"You took her place once, now you take it again. This was always your fate. Rejoice, that she might live through you—the one who took her from this world. The one who took her from me."

He brought her forehead to his lips and kissed it, and settled amidst the flowers blossoming at her feet.

"Now you can rest sister, and I'll tell you stories like I used to. Then maybe, one day, I'll see you smile again."

Strelitzia said nothing, just swayed sadly in the breeze.