rodrikstark's headcanons (part 4)

gilgamesh + gardening

it's relaxing: the steady sounds of gilgamesh digging out a column of rich dirt, transplanting your basil younglings from their nursery pots, and patting them in place. reliable, even—a rhythm by which you've been gathering your cherry tomatoes for the past twenty minutes.

then it stops.

"where did you go?"

gil blinks up at you, shoving his trowel back into the earth. "nowhere."

following his eyeline, you find thena meditating in the distance, underneath her favorite tree. legs neatly crossed and back as straight and tall as the trunk. "hmm." you gently nudge him with your boot. "bet you weren't in fiji."

he stamps down another pile of soil, ignoring your quip. "she doesn't like being put to sleep."

"she just doesn't like druig," you remind him with a laugh. it's understandable that a born warrior can't quite see eye-to-eye with druig's mission for peace. sternly, you continue, "she wants you to have this vacation."

she told you so herself at the farmer's market earlier today, gesturing for you to hang back while gilgamesh haggled over the freshest fruit. it's been such a long time, she said. he needs it.

"don't call it that," he mutters.

"a break," you revise, kneeling next to him and trying not to roll your eyes. "it's been decades, gil. close to a century." stealing the little shovel from his hands, you take over the transferring of the plants and pierce the ground. "maybe not a long time to you, but it is to humans." you frown. "to me."

then, a stretch of silence falls between you, punctured only by your moody grunts and the slap of dirt. he might leave it there. he does that, sometimes, when he needs to think.

eventually, he speaks. "where's your hat?"

your brow furrows. "my what?"

"your big hat." his two palms trace a wide circle around his head after he rises to his feet. "i'll get it. i don't want you to get burned."

that is the least of your concerns. "gil—"

"it'll be sunny in fiji, my love." a sly smile grows on his face. he presses a kiss to the crown of your head before turning toward the house. "you'll have to remember to wear it."