#dunno if it'll lead to anything so I left it vague-ish

[verduresapiens-archive]

A Conversation With a Plant

He hadn’t really done much to or with Little since she’d been brought back. Cared for her, had the greenhouse repairs started and the old Truffula trunk removed as discretely as he could - his seeds made that very easy; you didn’t have to worry about people blabbing when you controlled their thoughts. Granted that the greenhouse was in the midst of being repaired, and would be for a while yet, but still. 

It was spring now, getting warmer - Little would be fine for at least the next few months. there was plenty of time yet for her greenhouse to be repaired. Once that was done, he’d set up work on the Terrarium his Jean had planned out so long ago. 

For now, though, he had to have a talk with her. He could feel her, feel her in his head - poking around and laying roots back down where they’d been before, back before a certain naga pirate captain had convinced a man to hold Hershel down and let her be killed. 

Before both had vanished into the wind, leaving him confused and alone.

She looked the same as ever - much taller than him where she to bend perfectly straight, but otherwise about his height as she hunched over, leaves flared to catch as much sun as possible. He’d been scared that she would have been fused with the truffula at the time, but she hadn’t. The Greys had, either consciously or not, spawned her just in front of it. He’d had to move her after the Tuffula trunk had been removed. It had taken a while, but it had worked. She was back in the center, and already had the floor covered in vines.

“I can feel that you’re angry with me.” He said, after watching her for a minute or two. She didn’t move. Definitely angry. She never played the innocent plant routine with him unless he’d done something bad, something she didn’t approve of.

A rush of frustration, intense and growing, he wanted to hurt something, take the pots smash them break them into pieces unless somebody came by that he could replace like all the rest because none of it mattered when all of it was disposable even the damn workers could be replaced-

Definitely angry.

“You were too loud.” Taking a risk. Disagreeing, fighting and vying for full control of his own mind. He was justified, and she knew it. She’d be getting physical about now otherwise. “You were too loud, what was I supposed to do when it was like I had somebody screaming in my ears all day? They took advantage of that. I was confused, and they made me think you meant me ill. Not that hard, considering everything. If somebody is only ever violent you start to doubt they mean well.” She’d been so angry then, too. 

Angry, infuriated that somebody would take him from her. He was her human, hers, she made him what he was, kept him safe and happy and fed and only asked for the same in return, angry that somebody would dare try and make him let her die. 

Maybe it was a lie. Maybe it wasn’t. But when had she ever done anything harmful to him, really? 

A rush of confusion, then - different, different, the same but different. New voices, all of them new, none of the plants nearby even slightly the same - an old tree behind her, old but young, dead and withered and burnt - remains of a tragedy there had been fire in the garden but where had her human been how could he let it happen he was so obsessed with it too much to let it all rage away in a fire? Little ones in the soil. Burnt and withered like the new-old one behind her Hers. Scattered them into the soil as the hits came and hoped he’d keep them alive too. Seed and spread and grow. But gone now, each and every one. Barely a year. Not even. Enough to sprout but too young to even get their Voices yet. 

“...It... There was a... fire. I wasn’t... around. But I made things better. Nearly killed myself to do it.” He’d started it and he knew it but like hell he’d slip to her that he’d done it. The one thing she couldn’t do was read his mind. “One of the little ones you left behind never sprouted.” She moved then, shifted to look at him - if you could call it ‘looking’ at him.  “It landed in an old clay pot. The fires missed it. I... It started growing, when I planted it in a pot. I, ah... got nervous. Scared, doubtful. Gave it to a friend I could trust not to let it take him. He should still have it, but I haven’t seen him in... ages, now.”

A slight wave of relaxation. Calmness? It was strange. He could feel her easier now, now that he’d been a few years without her in the back of his mind and whispering at him quietly enough to make him think it was just him. But now he could tell when it was separate. Well, for now. 

“You know I don’t plan on letting you go again. The ones that confused me before are gone now. Long gone. There’s few here that would take you, as long as we stay low nothing should happen. I’ve learned a few new tricks - the going is slower now but attracts less attention. Got a man from the Scotland Yard on my tail now - I can’t remember if his partner knows about you, but as long as I keep my secrets secret, he should keep floundering around scraping for whatever tiny scrap of knowledge he can about me. Lucy is barely around anymore anyways. You should be safe.”

Doubt. Should be careful, shouldn’t tease, teasing gets us noticed gets the garden noticed - he has people seeded, she knows it feels it they’re mixed with volunteers normal people but they’re still there. He should be smarter about this and she knows it - shoves it into his head over and over until he starts getting a headache just looking at her. She’s died once and defied nature, she doesn’t think enough luck exists to bring her back twice. 

“I’ve met a man that I like. I fear he’ll leave as well.” Possessiveness, rolling in like a tidal wave so thick he almost forgets where he is- “He’s not like the last.” Doubt. Doubt doubt doubt and suspicion. “He’s intelligent but he wouldn’t do something he thinks would upset me. Quiet and shy and well-meaning. As long as we, again, keep things quiet and low, he shouldn’t care whether or not you exist. Things should get back on track soon. I’ve seeds scattered all throughout London, but making a move would be idiotic. Too many people here that would hate me taking London. I’ll wait until they leave. Until the worlds settle. My seeds should stay on our side of things, and if not I’ll do it over. But I have my garden, I have you, and I’m not as foolish as to broadcast my plans to everyone who can stop me. I want London. But for now, I have a garden that needs tending, a terrarium that needs building, and a dear plant that needs much more protection than I realized. You will not die again. I promise.”