Aurora's obnoxious (but tame compared to last year) gift for @lordofthestrix

Every Christmas presented itself with the same exact problem. No, it was not an issue as to what she ought to buy Tristan for Christmas, nor was there any concern over what she might find for herself underneath the tree. The problem was far simpler: what to open first. Some years, excitement overcame her. Certain gifts required Tristan’s immediate attention so that Aurora could bask in his reaction. Other years, it seemed best to get the customary gifts out of the way (if only to assure Tristan that he would indeed get his replenishment of hand-embroidered handkerchiefs. Aurora still recalled the disappointment he’d tried to conceal the year that she had not made him any out of fear that he had grown tired of the repetitive gift). Some years, the grander gifts demanded to be given last for some practical reason or another that could only be given after all other gifts were opened; that usually made the choice easier. This year, the choice was not easy. It had required much internal debate, but eventually Aurora had settled on a course of action.

The handkerchiefs would be presented first. There was the traditional array of handkerchiefs with his initials, a few owls, some with sprigs of lavender, rather standard fare. Yet, while the designs were perhaps expected, there was something else to them. Visually, there was nothing that would draw much attention, but there was a scent. It was soft, barely there. Notes of lavender, but something else too. It smelled like Aurora, but also…decidedly not. Still, it was just a smell. Aurora hoped that her brother would, at least for the moment, dismiss it, assume it was simply some remnant of whatever perfume Aurora had been wearing when she’d embroidered the handkerchiefs.

She further hoped to misdirect him from the scent by putting a small velvet box nestled in the midst of the handkerchiefs. Inside the box was a tie clip. Once, “regard” rings had been all the rage. Aurora had more than a few in her jewelry collection. She thought it high time to revive and reinterpret the trend. Rather than spell “regard,” she had opted for her name instead. Two stunning amethysts bookended the piece with an opal, two rubies and a rather fetching piece of uvarovite as well. In years prior, she’d never been able to find a stone for the “U” of her name and finding one large enough had been difficult even now. Fortunately, she was only designing a tie pin, not a ring. Even more fortunate: the stone was a beautiful shade of green so that all of the colors of the piece represented her. Any vampire with any sort of age to them would recognize the meaning of the piece, the tie to her should Tristan wear it. It would convey her message where scent could not.

The remaining fare was somewhat typical: some new shirts, adorned with the lavender hearts that she’d introduced at his birthday; chocolate delights from their favorite little shop in Paris; some delightful fountain pens; and several other ornate gifts. Each carried that same something extra as the handkerchiefs, the same scent that lingered of Aurora without actually smelling precisely like her.

Finally, only one box remained. She handed it to Tristan and curled against him, nuzzling into his side. “This one is very special.” she murmured. And it was. Aurora still remained the torture of staying still, wrapped in God only knew what so that the perfumer could extract her scent. She’d had wraps at the spa before, but this was far different and had been exceedingly unpleasant. Aurora couldn’t remember the last time that she’d had to lay still for so long. Actually, she’d fallen asleep and had woken to the perfumer unwrapping her to begin scraping her body free of whatever he had rubbed over her body (some kind of fat that she did not truly wish to identify). In retrospect, Aurora did not think her skin had ever felt softer than after the perfumer had scraped every bit of tallow from her, and the scent he had captured had been well worth it. He’d captured Aurora. Aurora as she smelled when she was unadorned with perfume. Aurora as she simply was. With that start, it had been a simple matter for the perfumer to take her scent and work it into the cologne that would suit Tristan. Beneath it all would be a note that would belong uniquely to Aurora. Would Tristan catch it? Had she left enough breadcrumbs on his other gifts by spritzing some of them with the new cologne? “I had it made especially for you. Merry Christmas, Tristan.”