Clover willow's Arc

Chapter 16 of 20

The guardian held Clover's hand and waited. He had asked her to stay for himself. Now the words sat between them, and he could not take them back. His wings trembled. Clover saw the fear behind his eyes. He had asked, and he could still be refused. The white dragon lifted off his shoulder and drifted toward the great willow at the grove's heart. Clover followed the dragon. She needed the tree to answer him. Its long branches swept the ground, wrapped in wandering vines. The leaves shifted color as she passed, pink to teal, and enchanted light sparkled along every branch. She had healed under this tree. She had calmed the grove from its roots. It knew her now. "Come here," she said to the guardian. He came. She pressed his palm flat against the twisting bark beside her own. "When I healed the blight, I nearly emptied myself," Clover said. "I could have gone back below to rest. I didn't. I stayed. I told myself it was for you." She met his eyes. "That was a lie. I stayed because I couldn't leave. This grove is mine now. And so are you." The guardian's breath caught. "You mean that." "I love you," Clover said. It was the first time she had said it plain, without the healing, without the crisis pushing the words out. "Not because you need mending. You never did. I love you the way you are." A soft light rose through the willow's vines. Lunaria Starwhisper drifted down from the high branches. Tiny flowers opened in her long blue hair as she came, glowing brighter with each one. Clover had never met the moon-fairy, only heard the grove whisper her name. Silver dust fell from her four wings. "The tree felt it," Lunaria said. Her voice was quiet, like water. "A promise makes it bloom. It has waited a long time for one." She touched a low branch. Blue flowers burst open along its length. The guardian looked at the blooming tree, then at Clover. His hand pressed hers against the bark. "Then I hold you to it," he said. "Not as my healer. As mine." "As yours," Clover said. Lunaria smiled and rose back into the branches, trailing dust. The willow's leaves brightened, every color at once, and held. Clover leaned into the guardian's chest. His arms closed around her. For the first time, neither of them was fixing anything. She had chosen the grove and chosen him, out loud, for herself. Then Lunaria's voice fell from above, no longer soft. "The tree bloomed too fast." Clover looked up. Flowers were opening everywhere, faster and faster, spilling down the vines. "A promise this strong wakes the whole grove. You must bind it before dark, or it will bloom itself to ruin." Clover pulled back. The grove she had just claimed was already changing.