Melisande Meadowshine

A Thank You

Melisande Meadowshine possessed what she considered to be a mostly-useless form of soothsaying. So frequently she started an embroidery project with no recipient in mind. Perhaps I’ll sell it, she usually reasoned. Once, when it was the thing keeping her afloat, her talents commanded a decent price. Now, it had returned to its rightful place as her creative outlet, a way to commune with her matronly forebears. A way to make a person feel appreciated, seen. And, as ever, by the time she felt inspired to complete some half-finished thing, the proper recipient appeared. It was a mundane magic of sorts.

For Miss Selowyn, her answer of “green” as a favored color was enough to send Melisande scrambling through her desk drawers. A bit of deep green fabric was stretched across one of her smallest hoops, a single pair of leaves formed before the project had been abandoned for something else. But how to complete it? A peony, for ambition? Too much pressure, perhaps. Alstroemeria, for friendship? Accurate enough, but not quite what she was going for.

Melisande briefly considered the way Audemus had slunk by, cranky and disheveled, as he passed her in the hall earlier. Presumably the night had not gone well.

There was a certain guilty churning in her gut at having abandoned her beautiful friend to such a fate. She genuinely thought she was being a help, but perhaps…well, she had to learn and see for herself, just like everyone else, that Audemus was a beautiful and terrible force of nature. Something to be endured if you wished to enjoy the calm between the storms.

She snatched a thin volume from atop her latest desk pile - A Simple Compendium of Flower Meanings - and flicked through to the index. She’d needed it recently for something else entirely, but it seemed serendipity had smiled on her again.

Happiness….something simple, straightforward. Her freckled, work-worn finger ran down the page. Happiness, return to…..page 27. Who didn’t wish happiness upon the radiant goodness of the lovely Miss Selowyn?

She flipped back to page 27, greeted by the image of Lily of the Valley. A delicate, springy thing. Purity. Goodness. Of course.

At this necklace-sized scale, each bloom was but a few careful stitches, and mounting it properly to one of her spare pendants was the work of only a few minutes. By the time it was all completed, Khida had come knocking, and it was her unpracticed hand that applied the letters of Selowyn’s name to brown parcel paper, alongside a drawing of two stick figures (one considerably smaller than the other) and a large, crooked heart for extra flourish. How easily her heart opened to others. The young woman felt her heart might burst with pride as she pressed a kiss atop the girl’s blonde head.

Melisande pulled a sheet of stationery from another desk drawer - celadon green with daisies dancing along the borders - and dashed off a quick note. 

Miss Sunhawk,

My immense gratitude for a little company and a lovely time Saturday night. You, of course, looked stunning as ever.

I realize this can’t compete with Audemus’s shinies, but it’s a token of my thanks all the same.

I look forward to the next time we meet, which I dearly hope is sooner and not later.

Yours in Friendship,

MM

PS - You can see Khida’s handiwork on the outside of the package, an editorial contribution solely of her own making. I think she feels as fond of you as I do! 

The package was sent off with little fanfare, passed off to a capable courier. She felt a certain nervous excitement all the same, a frisson of joyful anticipation seeming to tingle in her blood.