Soft Gabriel /f!MC

Dark mountainous escapes zoomed outside the glass windows as the tram wound its way up the mountain side, passing well lit homes set deep inside the cliff face and dark swatches where the shadows lived, and the lanterns did not dare touch. I bounced in my seat beside Gabriel, holding his hand as I pressed my face to the glass.  The car itself was only big enough to fit about a dozen individuals, all of which were on their best behavior given that the Warden was sitting among them.

“Do you think we’re almost there?” I whispered to him excitedly. I wasn’t sure how long this ride was supposed to be. Part of me was anxious to get there, but the other part was enjoying cozying up in a small bench seat and watching the world go by.

“Soon,” Gabriel said vaguely. It was doubtful he knew any better than I did. This entire excursion was out of his realm of comfort.  The man was not an adventurer. He liked routine and structure, and so the fact that he agreed to the impromptu trip when we woke up this morning, spoke volumes of his affection for me.  “Though, I will be talking to someone about this transportation. It is clearly not up to code.”

The driver up front shifted in his seat, glancing at us through the mirror. He said nothing, however, as he pulled the levers and kept us winding up the hill.

“Oh, come now. It’s not that bad.” A little tight, but Gabriel stood well above six foot, so I was pretty sure anything was uncomfortable to him.

“It is not up to code,” he dismissed. “And I am sure that the rails have not had a routine maintenance in some time.”  His face was twisting in that way that said he was going to work himself up into full Warden mode.  Something I had come to see as a defense mechanism over the years.  

Squeezing his hand, I twisted my body towards him. “How long has the market been here?” I asked, trying to take his mind off of rules and regulations.

“Two hundred and thirty-three years,” he responded. “It was founded by the sprites that lived on the mountain peaks who became adept at growing specialty flowers. They would bring their blooms down for trade at the market proper, but their wings grew due heavy with the condensation and they became sick. So they set up the open air market on top of the cliff face and have been there ever since.”

I raised my brow to him. “Are you sure you’ve never been here?”

“Never. I just did the proper research.”

“I just asked you here this morning.”

“And I made a few inquiries while you were in the bath.”  

Lights bloomed across his face, streaming in from the window. Several lanterns were starting to appear, creating little patches of brilliance in an inky night.  I squirmed a little in my seat, knowing that we were close. I could already smell the roses and the faint hint of something minty as the air filter pumped in the fresh mountain air.

Gabriel’s arm wrapped around me, pulling me close. “I do think this was a good idea,” he told me, assuring me that he wanted to be here. 

“Even if the regulations are wrong?”

He nodded firmly. “Yes. But we will fix that so we have an excuse to come back again.”

The tram pulled up to the mountain stop and people began to rise, some of which looking all too eager to get away from law enforcement. The entire side of the tram opened, unfolding into a series of three steps. I hopped out as quickly as I could, knowing Gabriel would be behind me.

I sucked in a deep breath at the sight before me.  Whereas the market spaces down below were draped in fabric, surrounded by steam, the flower market could not have been different. Large arches of ivy were strung up along each stall, while large copper buckets full of luscious blooms cascaded down past the lips of their containers to create rivers of color upon the ground. The smell hit me all at once. Clean and floral with just the vaguest bit of spice.  

Next to me, Gabriel grabbed one of the available wicker baskets, slipping it over my arm.  With a small bounce of pleasure, I took off into the venue.  There was color as far as my eye could see, and I knew that even if I were to spend an entire afternoon here, I still would not see it all.  

“A flower for the lady’s hair?” A young girl bounded up to me, holding a large blush colored peony.  Gabriel handed her a few coins and I bent down, so the girl could pin the bloom in my dark locks, winding the stem within my silver combs.

“Thank you,” I told the girl. She giggled a little before rushing away.

When my gaze turned to Gabriel, I could see the heat in his eyes. I had seen it often as of late. It was the one he gave when he was hit with the types of emotions he still struggled to understand.  I stood there, waiting for him to catch up, smiling gently up at him. When he reached his hand out to tuck a loose curly strand behind my ear, I caught his hand in mine.

“You are a vision,” he breathed out to me.

I felt the blush paint the apples of my cheeks.  The reverence in his voice soothed any worries I ever had. I hoped that I would be able to do the same for him.

“Come on,” I said. “I want to fill this basket.”

We wound through the moss covered paths, listening to the pixies giggling in the trees as they threw rose petals down upon the market goers.  Large lanterns were strung high above the ivy stalls, tipped over to their side. There, blossoms of daisy’s, hyacinth, fresh tulips and alstromeria, poured downwards to fall into a small koi pond.  Children played at the water's edge, launching pine cone boats off into its depths and laughing as the frogs commandeered them for their own piracy needs.

I heard Gabriel snort by my side as one particular frog sank a rather large boat. When I looked at him, he was looking off to the side, hiding his smile, but I could see the amusement tugging at his lips.

“Alright, truth time,” I said as we continued to walk. I picked up a few blooms as I went.  “Favorite color.”

“That is an arbitrary concept,” he told me, his eyes lingering on a pair of lovers who were giggling mischievously in the corner. I tugged at him a little, reminding him that he was not on duty. He sighed. “Color choices can change on a whim. I have never taken stock of something being my favorite.”

“And yet I do not see a single bright color in your house,” I told him.

“Well, no. Yellows and pinks are garish.”

“Hey,” I laughed. “I happen to like those colors.”

“And they suit you beautifully. They do not suit me.”

“So,” I wheedled. “Colors that do suit you are…?”

He looked around, trying to latch onto something. Gabriel was the kind of man that took his time, taking in his options before ever making a decision. Picking out new sheets at the house had been a week-long process.

“I like darker colors,” he told me.  “Blues, I believe. Not green.  Silver, perhaps.”  

While he wasn’t looking, I began plucking up stocks of blue delphinium and iris, along with silver leafed fern.  “Those are nice color combinations. Anything else.”

“I do not like red,” he said firmly. “It also reminds me too much of work.”

I paused. “Is that why you wear a blue uniform instead of the velvet guard one?”

“I do not look good in red.”

I laughed loudly at that, not ever having realized that he had done such a thing due to his own snobbery. It somehow made him more endearing. “What about deep plums?” I asked. “Or burnt oranges?”

“No orange. Purple is perhaps okay.  And I take back what I said about green. As long as it is a nice green. Like the color of herbs that Miss Hazel grows.”

I nodded, sneaking more and more into my basket. It was the nice thing about Gabriel that he was somewhat oblivious to what I was doing.  

“I would like to get you a bouquet while we are here,” he told me solemnly. “But I am afraid I do not do well at putting things together. And I do not wish to offend your sensibilities.”

“Gabriel, I don’t think anything you can give me would ‘offend’ me.”

“You were not a fan of the knife that I gave you last year.”

“Well, no,” I started slowly. “It was pretty. Very pretty, in fact. And I do use it to cut apples.”  Stopping, I turned towards him completely.  “How about you let me take care of the flowers today, and you keep me safe.  And find where we can eat some food.”

“And that would be sufficient for you?”

“Yes,” I laughed.

Leaning down, he kissed me. Right in the middle of the spring blooms, he pressed his lips to my, pulling my body against his own and bending me back. I felt my breath catch in my throat and my eyes flutter closed as I melted into his touch. When he pulled away, that hungry look was in his eyes again.

“You are gathering flowers for me, aren’t you,” he whispered.

I smiled against his lips. “I am.” It was actually good to know he was more observant than I gave him credit for.

“Will you arrange them for me at home?”

“I would love to.”

Kissing me again, this time more soft, he sighed against my lips. “I do not deserve you.”

“You deserve the moon, Gabriel Caine. Or, at least the Night Market.”

He righted himself, keeping his hand entwined within mine. He made no comment on my play on words, or the things he deserved, but he held me close. I watched his eyes as I picked blooms for his bouquet, making sure to pay special attention to the ones that he lingered upon.  Several times he squeezed my hand, showing his affection the best he could, and each time I felt warmth spread through me.

As I gathered each bloom, I felt my love for him grow deeper. This taciturn man that was bound by rules and regulations, looked as if he softened with each flower I picked for him. And I had to wonder if anyone had ever done this for him before.  

“Lyra,” he said after a long moment.  “I do not think I have enough containers for the amount of flowers you are picking.”

I grinned. “Then it looks like we will be stopping by the glass district on the way home, huh?” I turned to him, blooms falling down around us, purples and deep greens swirling around on sweetly scented wind. And as we stood there, I felt the world stop. We were not the Warden and the Night Market at that moment. We were Gabriel and Lyra. And nothing had ever felt more right.