The Archduke visits the elves. When the plants begin to go mad with growth, they are more than happy to send the person away with TWO seedlings, with the promise the person never, ever, visits again with a lot of warning so they can prepare in advance before giving permission for the visit.
@internutter/challenge-04971-m222-an-ash-for-ashes -- BKF
Some Nobles were heralded by trumpets. Some by their entourage forming a parade. Many are announced by a person with the title of Herald. Only one was heralded by the blooming of flowers and flourishing of plants. Further, he was one heralded as such for miles.
By the time he arrived at Thysennor, there was a host of Druids waiting for him. Quite a lot of them were angry, or at least frustrated. They were taking turns damping down the abundant growth. Many were taking their ease to refresh their energies.
"I do apologise for the inconvenience," said Archduke Tirerrava. "Did you not receive my letter of intent?"
"We did," said the leader of this band of Wood Elves. "We did not believe you were serious regarding the key matter of the content. Humans normally do not possess such... gifts."
"It's dependant on the family line. The Rezlynraug on the throne and below the crown is directly responsible for a certain area around them flourishing. It's... impossible for such as myself to keep a... traditional Human manse. Therefore I came to beg one of your precious Ygdrassi seedlings. Or a seed if you can spare such."
"We will deliberate," announced the Grand Matriarch[1]. She eyed the flourishing plant life and Druids running themselves ragged, then added, "But not for long. Braenyl? Still him."
Braenyl's oak-hued skin held a subtle flash of amber scales. A draconic bloodline. What that meant for the diminutive Elven child was that they had access to magic that most others could not reach.
"Do not set foot on the earth," warned Braenyl. "Just... relax." A small,four-fingered hand rested on Archduke Tirerrava's left calf. There was a sensation not unlike a thousand butterflies landing on his bare skin before launching again. It spread out from the young Elf's touch. Wrapping him over.
He was very relieved to see the plant growth slow to a halt, and the surrounding Druids relax. Tirerrava concentrated on remaining very calm and still, so as not to disturb the Elves. He also concentrated on keeping his horse just as calm. Maculosus had her ears pinned back, but also absolute trust in him. She didn't like it, but she would stay still for him.
The butterfly feeling in his entire skin intensified to pins and needles. Tirerrava clenched one fist around the reins, gritted his teeth, and tried his hardest to think of his favourite things.
The Matriarch Circle returned. One was bearing a seedling with a root ball in a cloth wrap. The other had a small box with elaborate carvings. Both Elves wore antler headdresses. Another attendant wore thick gloves as they attached charms to each of Tirerrava's boots. They looked like black metal rings on leather thongs.
Braenyl backed off as if they were burned. So too did the Elf with the thick gloves.
"You are muted with North-star Iron," said the Druid with the seedling. Tirerrava would learn later that hir name was Virikian. "It will restrain your gift until the tree is planted. Then, we shall guide its growth to fulfil your requirements."
The one with the box added, "We gift your bloodline this box of seeds. They will remain preserved by magic until they are needed."
The Grand Matriarch said, "Please do not visit again until you are invited in a time of great need."
He was right all along. They would gift him a Ygdrassi just to get rid of him. And the potential for twenty more, just to keep him and his brood the hell away from them.
Now all he had to worry about was moving all his staff, goods, and chattels into the new growing mansion. Preferably before its trunk ate the old one.
[1] Wood Elves, like Dark Elves, are matrilineal.
[Photo by Jonathan Lim on Unsplash]
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