another ficlet idea: lilia and silver bonding together in the secret garden au \o/ are they playing a game? chatting together? ill leave that one up to you!

“Regardless of whether you may be ready or not… here I come, little one!”

He stifles a giggle by pressing his palm against his lips, back pressed against the rough expanse of bark and moss. Silver is hiding, nestled behind a particularly ancient tree with roots so monstrously large that they tangle together into dips and crannies he can hide within. He can feel his heart thumping in his chest, the adrenaline of the game seizing hold of him, but there is no real fear there, only anticipation.

It is yet another day in this secret, wonderful garden he stumbled upon in the woods. His refuge, his little paradise away from the orphanage. It isn’t as though he hates it there; his friends are nice, and he loves to play with them, and some of the adults are kind enough to sneak him a few extra treats, or a gift or two. But here, tucked away within the rounded stone walls of a secret garden, is something special — an earthly paradise of the most beautiful flora and fauna, and a friend who smiles at him and plays with him — all his, all for Silver alone.

They’re playing hide and seek again. They’ve played it many times before. But no matter how many times they do it, there’s always somewhere new to hide. Silver always discovers new spots to tuck his tiny body away in, peering out from the wispy leaves of the trees, or ducking his head as his friend peers through a crack in a wall that he’s hiding within. In this little garden, this special place, there is always something new — and can anyone really blame Silver for wanting to come here again and again, whisking himself away into a wondrous world of his fantasies made real?

He holds his breath, eyes wide as he hears a faint thumping of footsteps go by. He must’ve gotten distracted; is his friend close by?

Silver’s friend is… how can he describe him? He doesn’t have a name for him, always referring to him as mister, but he is kind to him, always welcoming him in with a fang-toothed smile, his long black-and-red hair swaying behind him in gentle breezes of springtime wind. He presses sweet treats into Silver’s hands, swings him around merrily into a dance, and plays game after game with him before they collapse into rambling chatters of anything and everything that’s on Silver’s mind.

Silver loves his friend. He really does!

And yet, there is a line he dares not cross.

Beware of the faeries, the adults have always told them. Those of the orphanage are more superstitious than most, having experienced strange activity in the woods time and time again in spite of the modern era they all live in. For as long as Silver can remember, he has been taught painstakingly about how to deal with strange, beautiful people, those who wish to lure him away. Be polite to them, reject their food, and above all else, do not give away your name.

It’s the reason why his friend calls him child and little one, affectionately referring to him as dear. It’s the reason Silver carefully puts aside the ripe fruits and sugary treats he receives, always claiming that he isn’t hungry, and always making sure to eat before he comes so he isn’t telling a lie.

And yet, in spite of all the dangers, he keeps coming back.

“Found you!”

He squeaks as a shadow falls over him, two glinting red eyes peering down at him. His friend grins cheekily, before reaching down to scoop Silver up, lithe limbs betraying a supernatural sort of strength. “What a devious hiding spot,” he teases, “to take advantage of your small statue and hide amidst the roots of the trees! You grow better at this every day, dear.”

Silver squirms slightly, though he leans into the hold soon enough. His friend smells nice, like fresh forest pines and sweet fruits mingling together into something that clings to his nose. Everything about him just brings such an ease to Silver, a happiness he could have never possibly dreamt of.

(And yet, he still hesitates. He still notices the unnatural swiftness of his friend’s movements, the otherworldly beauty that drapes off of him, the way the garden seems to shift day after day, growing and twisting at an otherwise impossible pace.

There is a tinge of iron that clings to his scent.

Silver is happy here. He is safe. But—)

“You must be thirsty after all that hiding.” He feels himself being placed down onto a soft patch of grass. Silver watches as his friend pulls out an elegant little leaf cup out of nowhere, filled with something glistening and shimmering, with a scent that makes his mouth water. “Why not quench your thirst, hm?”

(Does he trust his friend?)

Silver blinks at the drink offered to him.

And then he smiles.

“Thank you for the offer, but… it’s alright!”