Title: flowers for the fair ones
Fandom: Suikoden
Pairing/characters: Grenseal, Percival, Alen (Alen/Grenseal)
Count: 928
Prompt/challenge you're answering: Grenseal & Percival a rose in your hair
Notes: Not actually set within a game timeline. Kinda slips into canon in that it'd be set after the unification war and before the second fire-bringer war. Percival is about 8-ish, Grenseal 24. Sort of turned out how I had it in my head.

flowers for the fair ones

Grenseal decided that Iskay looked just as it had been described in the letters. Small country village with windmills looming in the distance over fields and fields of wheat as far as the eye could see. Tranquil came to mind. Even with the townsfolk bustling about in preparation of the harvest festival, there was a certain peacefulness that washed over him. He shared the knowing smile Alen shot him, relishing in a deep breath of fresh, clean air.

Right up until the squeal of surprise followed by the sound of running feet. Luckily he dropped the reins to his horse fast enough to catch the body throwing itself at him.

Alen's sister. Whatever were the townspeople going to think of a woman jumping into the arms of other men with her husband right there.

He was still wondering the same thing hours later when he had their son curled up in his lap. Percival was a small lad, eyes bright and inquisitive. Dark haired too, just like his uncle. Grenseal chuckled to himself remembering how they'd spent the afternoon getting dark looks from the villagers as they came in from the fields until they'd managed to tell everyone that Alen was his uncle and that both of them took after Alen's mother. Grenseal would make sure to remember to share the story when they returned to Gregminster.

"You look amused," Alen said as he stopped by, carefully brushing Percival's hair aside. "He asleep. All that running around with Barts today must have worn him out."

"More likely the excitement of finally getting to meet you. I was just thinking of the reactions to that particular story we're going to get once we get back."

"You..." Grenseal couldn't help but grin at how Alen flushed in embarrassment. "For that I'm not going to help you out by taking him off to bed."

"I can manage just fine," Grenseal smiled as he easily stood with the sleeping boy securely in his arms.

"I'll take back that rose," Alen countered, reaching out to snatch the flower he'd placed there earlier, his slowness showing he was far from serious. Alen of the lightning was never slow. Grenseal quickly stepped out of reach and slipped a hand into his pocket for some coins.

"Go purchase us a skin of wine," he ordered, flicking the potch up for Alen to catch. "I'll be right back."

Navigating the crowd of happy villagers, Grenseal made his way to the house a little down the street. He was nudging the door open when he felt Percival stir in his arms.

"Easy lad. Just bringing you somewhere more comfortable."

"Uncle Gren?"

"Yeah, I'm here." Grenseal smiled gently at the title and shortened name. He'd been well and truly adopted by the kid.

Stepping into the house he was quite glad to see a lamp or two left low so he and Alen wouldn't bump into unfamiliar furniture. Taking up the lamp on the table next to the large vase of roses, Grenseal headed up the stairs to Percival's room. There he helped him get ready for bed, tucking him in and closing the curtain against the light of the festival bonfires that still burned brightly.

"Uncle Gren?"

"Hmm?" he turned from the window to look down at the boy in the dim light.

"Why did uncle Alen give you and father a rose too?"

Pausing for a moment, Grenseal lifted his hand to the flower in his hair. Alen had made sure to carefully remove the thorns from the roses before tucking it against his ear, fingers lingering for a moment. No one had thought anything of it because Alen had given roses to his sister and her husband as well. It had actually been the source of much amusement for everyone and Grenseal felt his face heating again like it had earlier.

How to explain to this impressionable young lad that such attachments where not between a man and woman only. He couldn't. It wasn't his place and so he borrowed the words Alen had used earlier when handing out the roses.

"All fair people deserve flowers. Remember that."

He could see the young face scrunch in thought even as Percival fought off a yawn.

"Then what do I get? I'm not fair like you or mother or father and neither is uncle Alen."

Grenseal laughed. He really couldn't answer that question either. Not without imparting information that was not solely his to share. Leaning down he placed a light kiss to Percival's brow and ruffled his hair.

"You'll find out when you are older and you give your fair-haired person a rose. Now off to sleep with you. The festival will be in full swing tomorrow and you'll need all your energy for the activities."

Checking the curtain one last time, Grenseal missed the thoughtful look that passed over Percival's face as he snuggled further into the blankets. He would have to talk to Alen and his sister as it would not do to leave their actions unexplained. It would only confuse the lad.

Leaving the lamp where he'd originally found it and letting himself out the back door rather than the front, Grenseal grinned as he was grabbed and pressed to the wall in the darkness. Alen was warm from the fire and tasted of good wine.

Those who give you roses get kisses he thought as he buried his fingers into Alen's short hair and pulled him close, not for a moment realizing that his earlier actions may have already hinted this to Percival.
.

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