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[semi-open post: in the gardens again]
Oct. 27th, 2023 07:47 am A spray of soft myrtle is easy enough to find. Claudius half-expected to find myrtle blossoms weren't in season, the way it went when he was searching for hawthorn flowers with Sagramore -- but the mansion gardens have a way of either confounding expectations or clamoring to meet them, with herbs for herbal remedies and charming flowers for the welcome table. Whatever mischievous witchcraft makes the garden last for months without rain doesn't ignore expectations altogether.
Myrtle blossoms bloom, but high up enough that Claudius needs a ladder to reach them. He's sure even his very tall friends would struggle, though Lan Wangji would no doubt gracefully and effortlessly float up among the branches with cultivation. Claudius doesn't have that option. But if this is the only obstacle he has to face to make his feelings known to Galahad, then it's an obstacle worth fetching a ladder for.
(It isn't the only obstacle -- there are obstacles aplenty -- but the thoughtful array of flowers Claudius received and Laertes's dismayed conviction that a jonquil means one thing both keep Claudius motivated.)
So here Claudius is atop a ladder, overdressed for gardening with a white silk opera scarf, a pair of shears in his hand as he bends down a spray of myrtle to snip. The things he does, he thinks, for love.
Myrtle blossoms bloom, but high up enough that Claudius needs a ladder to reach them. He's sure even his very tall friends would struggle, though Lan Wangji would no doubt gracefully and effortlessly float up among the branches with cultivation. Claudius doesn't have that option. But if this is the only obstacle he has to face to make his feelings known to Galahad, then it's an obstacle worth fetching a ladder for.
(It isn't the only obstacle -- there are obstacles aplenty -- but the thoughtful array of flowers Claudius received and Laertes's dismayed conviction that a jonquil means one thing both keep Claudius motivated.)
So here Claudius is atop a ladder, overdressed for gardening with a white silk opera scarf, a pair of shears in his hand as he bends down a spray of myrtle to snip. The things he does, he thinks, for love.
