"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Gulliver travels with a placid grin. It appears as a permanent fixture on his otherwise unremarkable face.
Even with the things he hears -- the anger, the sadness, the impenetrable and unshakeable grief -- the grin remains. Warm, inviting. He is a kind thing, this boy who is no longer a boy. This boy who is no longer a boy but who still carries the comforting embrace of the vines that climb up his legs and stretch along the column of his spine. This boy who is no longer a boy but who still keeps ferns tangled up in his hair. He is no longer a boy, but he is unwilling to let go of these boyish habits.
He ambles through the meadow, where the grasses bend toward him, as if reaching for him. And he passes his mouth through and around them, sighing softly. And grinning still. Always grinning.
How remarkable it is to be so at peace despite the chaos around him. He can hear them all, their fears and their worries and, occasionally, their joys. He is troubled by the negativity, but he does not know how to remedy it. He is just a boy, even if he is not a boy anymore. He does not have the answers that they need. The most he can offer is a spray of baby’s breath at their feet, like this will make them smile. Like this will help in any way.
He moves to the dappled shade of a large tree, parks himself under it, tenderly touches its bark with his mouth. He loves this tree the same way he loves the rest of his plants. The same way he loves the vines that stretch and curl and the ferns tangled in his hair, dripping down his face from where they cling to his forelock.
He waits and he listens. And he grins that placid, placid grin.
i will be waiting for you on the other side of the frozen pines
i'm gonna find a way through, there's another light beyond the lie
They’re a small family, but Garett would notice his twin anywhere. It is difficult not to, painted in almost the same shades of white and green that they are, though Garett has brown mixed in - and the familiar way with which Gully decorates himself with the plants they can both sing to. This brother never got into that habit. The grasses gravitate towards him, brushing against his legs in gentle greetings, and the boughs of the trees will move if he asks, but he is still apart from them in a way his twin is not.
It is an observation made without jealousy, without distaste. Only with love.
He joins his brother beneath the tree without a formal greeting - just that warm smile that seems to come so naturally to them both. Green eyes flick upwards to note the ferns joining with the vines that tangle themselves around his twin’s body and his smile grows. “You have new ferns, I see. Our sister's going to love that.” Garett laughs lightly and uses his own plant-skills to tug slightly at one of the fronds drooping over Gulliver’s face. Enough to be felt but gentle, because he will not risk breaking it.
They're a small family, but they've been protected from heartache and that is no small thing.
It comes as no surprise, how glad he is to see his brother. How the sight of him bolsters Gulliver’s heartbeat, deepens the corners of his smile as he studies Garett’s familiar face.
“Brother,” he says and this is his greeting. Before he turns his head to peer at what ferns he can see. The ones tangled up in his tail, hanging low in his mane, and the grin remains as he swings his head back around to level his gaze with his brother’s. “It is important work,” he muses, the tone light, “keeping our sister happy.” And he means it. Says it without a hint of malice or irritation. He would gladly spend his life making his brother and sister happy.
He, too, laughs good-naturedly at the gentle tug. Tosses his head simply for the theatrics of it, grinning all the while.
And then there is a brief silence while he considers his brother’s question. “I have been traveling,” he tells him, “learning what I can about the plants of Beqanna.” The only thing he has ever loved as much as he loves his family: his plants.
“And you, brother?” He asks, dipping his head to listen intently to his brother’s answer.
i will be waiting for you on the other side of the frozen pines
i'm gonna find a way through, there's another light beyond the lie
With his twin, Garett feels the same peace that he does when he is wandering through the forest - surrounded by plants and life in all its various stages. There’s something wild about Gulliver, but the wild found in an old-growth forest. Deep and rich and calm.
It’s suitable that he had been travelling then, and Garett grins at this - and then the smile grows warm with a blush when the question is returned. “I… well, kind of met someone. A girl of storms and ice.” There’s a dreamy touch to the smile in his green eyes when he thinks of Mako, of the hint of a beginning that existed there. He was hopeful that there would be more still more to their story, though they had not seen each other in a while.
But he thought of her every time the thunder rumbled and was never quite sure whether it was the storm or the memory of her that made his pulse quicken.
Garett ducks his head a little in embarrassment before turning the questions back on his twin - genuinely interested in Gulliver’s travels (ha) but also just unable to sort out his thoughts on Mako enough to turn it into any real conversation.
“What was your favourite plant you learned about on your travels?”
He makes no effort to temper the look of pure delight that passes across his face with his brother’s news. He watches Garett look away, succumbing to his embarrassment, and Gulliver laughs something joyful. Reaches out to bump his brother’s shoulder, trying to imagine this girl of storms and ice who had captured his brother’s heart.
He has not been so lucky himself but that does nothing to dampen his enthusiasm for his brother. He beams proudly, studying his brother’s face as he asks, “and what is your girl of storms and ice’s name?”
It does not occur to him that Garett might not want to share these details with him. They are brothers and he is confident that there are no secrets between them.
He only briefly considers his brother’s question, closing his eyes to imagine the things he had seen in his travels. The flora that had taken his breath away, filled him with happiness so complete that sometimes he thought his heart would struggle to beat around it.
He tilts his head and opens his eyes again. Instead of trying to describe the rainbow eucalyptus he’d seen, he merely thinks hard about it, as if willing his brother to peer into his mind to see it. “A rainbow eucalyptus,” he murmurs, putting a name to the image in his mind.
i will be waiting for you on the other side of the frozen pines
i'm gonna find a way through, there's another light beyond the lie
