Content Warning

Greetings and Salutations.
Because my stories have bite, they can contain content that isn't suitable for work or children. Not a lot of truly graphic sex or violence, but there are some questionable or heated posts. F-bombs are not uncommon, so watch your footing.

Friday, February 21, 2020

#FridayFlash - Cultivator

Morrigana slipped through the garden in her elven form, even her tail put away. Early morning light filtered through the green canopy, birds sang, and servants worked in the distance.

A perfect day for assassination.

The baroness of the estate always held brunch and court in her garden, conspiring with the other ladies of the court how best to rule through their men. A few deaths amongst the schemers would make room for their more ruthless proteges. Ones that were more tractable to Shalafae's will.

Elthanael approached from the other direction, at home in the lush garden. Many of the plants were native to his home and he'd grown up playing amongst them.

She smelled roses and paused, distractedly by the rick perfume. Stronger than her father's gardens, somehow, and more potent with the traces of rot she so favored. The hybrid needed to see the source.

Morrigana changed target, moved to her left, following the aroma. She'd love to pick the gardener's mind, find out what he fed them, what his pruning schedule was, how old the root was. Her nostrils flared as the scent grew stronger; what would it be like under a blazing sun, heat coaxing everything from the blooms.

Poking her head through trailing willows, she saw the bush. Sapphire blue blooms larger than her fist, the bush stood taller than her hybrid form, with leaves so green they were almost black. The second-most beautiful rose she'd ever seen.

~Stay on target,~ Elthanael whispered mentally. He was nearly in place, saw the first of the ladies.

~Coming,~ the assassin replied. She'd definitely come back for a clipping, see if she could make it grow at home.