The Approval Tour

Even though Arista had stayed to watch Nettle work, she hadn't stayed until the very end, letting Nettle finish in her own rhythm without someone constantly hovering over her shoulder. Once it was ready, Nettle brought the completed piece to Arista's workshop.

Arista unfolded it carefully, a modest flag, sturdy fabric, the emblem embroidered across its center with genuine, careful skill. The fly, mining helm perched neatly atop its head, six delicate Celestial wings spread from its back, every detail rendered in fine, precise stitching.

"...This is beautiful," Arista said, turning it in the light. "The wings especially. You weren't kidding about those taking the longest."

"Every single one, slightly different," Nettle said, satisfied. "Worth the extra time, I think."

Arista studied the finished flag a while longer, then folded it carefully back up. "...Okay. Let's go find out if we've made something charming or something diplomatically catastrophic."

She brought it to Gorthruk first, the safest bet by far.

He studied the embroidered emblem for a long moment, tracing the tiny mining helm with something that might have been quiet amusement.

"...The Republic is represented accurately," he said finally. "The helm design matches our traditional pattern precisely."

"You're not offended?"

"Why would I be offended by a fly wearing a proper mining helm instead of an improper one," Gorthruk said, entirely deadpan. "This is acceptable, Strawberry. More than acceptable. Proceed."

Arista studied his expression a moment longer, genuinely curious.

"It's the Republic's own standard pattern," Gorthruk said, turning the flag slightly to catch the light on the tiny stitched details. "Recognizable to any dwarf on sight, regardless of guild or trade."

"That was deliberate," Arista said. "I wanted something that represented the whole Republic, not just one guild or trade. Same logic across all three symbols, really, nothing that favored one faction over another."

"A wise instinct," Gorthruk said, nodding once, satisfied. "The kind of detail that separates genuine respect from a passing gesture. I notice these things."

"I'm learning that about you," Arista said, grinning.

Beelzebub's reaction came considerably faster, and considerably louder.

"...Is that a fly," he said, delighted, taking the flag from her hands immediately, "wearing a mining helm and Celestial wings."

"That's the idea, yeah. Something representing all three realms together."

"I love it," Beelzebub said, entirely without hesitation, already holding it up to admire properly. "Genuinely. This is exactly the kind of thing I would commission myself, had I thought of it first."

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"...So you approve?"

"Enthusiastically," he confirmed. "Though I reserve the right to request a slightly larger version for my own personal quarters."

"Out of curiosity," he added, tilting the flag slightly to study it further, "why a fly, specifically? You could have used my own likeness directly. Would have been simpler, surely."

"Considerably less charming, though," Arista said. "Your own likeness would've made this a statement about you specifically. A fly wearing borrowed symbols from all three realms says something different. It says the whole thing belongs to everyone equally, you included, but not you specifically."

"...That's more thoughtful than I expected, honestly," Beelzebub admitted, something genuinely pleased crossing his expression. "I approve of the reasoning even more than the design itself, if that's possible."

Arista laughed, relief flooding through her considerably now that two of the three had landed so easily. "I'll have Nettle make you one."

Michael's reaction took the longest to arrive, the least immediately readable of the three.

He studied the embroidered flag in silence for a long while, six wings entirely still, countless small eyes tracking every careful stitch.

"...A fly," he said finally, "bearing my own wings."

"I wanted something that represented all three realms equally," Arista said, steady despite the weight of his unreadable scrutiny. "Not one symbol dominating the others. Something combined."

"...The wings are accurate," he said slowly, studying the delicate, feathered detail with what might have been genuine surprise. "Remarkably so, for embroidery."

"Nettle's very good at her craft."

"Evidently." Michael turned the flag slightly, examining the stitching from another angle entirely. "I confess, I expected something considerably more approximate. A general suggestion of wings, perhaps, rather than an actual attempt at accuracy."

"Would an approximation have been easier to approve?"

"No," Michael said, something almost surprised in the single word. "It would have been easier to overlook. This is not something easily overlooked."

Michael considered the flag a while longer, and then, slowly, something shifted in his expression, not quite a smile, nothing so simple, but a softening, a genuine warmth breaking through the ancient, careful solemnity he usually carried.

"...I find," he said finally, "that I am pleased to be included so thoughtfully. Few outside our realm bother to render our nature accurately, let alone with such evident care."

"...So that's an approval?"

"That is an approval," Michael confirmed, handing the flag back with careful, deliberate hands. "You may proceed, Strawberry. And please, extend my compliments to whoever crafted this. The wings, in particular, are exceptionally well done."

Arista left the audience considerably lighter than she'd arrived, the small, folded flag tucked safely away, three approvals secured without a single diplomatic incident.

She found Nettle back at the workshop, already anticipating the result from Arista's expression alone.

"...All three?"

"All three," Arista confirmed, grinning. "Gorthruk approved of his own accuracy. Beelz wants a bigger one for his personal quarters. And Michael—" she paused, still faintly delighted by the memory "—Michael specifically complimented your wing-work."

Nettle beamed, genuinely touched. "...The wings took the longest, honestly. Six of them, each one slightly different in detail. Glad it actually paid off."

"He said he expected something approximate," Arista added. "Said accuracy like this was harder to overlook than a rough suggestion would've been."

"Good," Nettle said, satisfied. "That was rather the point. Anyone can slap a vague symbol on something and call it representation. I wanted this to actually mean something, if I was going to put my name on it."

"You didn't put your name on it."

"I know," Nettle said, grinning. "But I know it's mine. That's usually enough."

Arista laughed, already handing the flag back for safekeeping. "Well, consider it officially, unanimously approved. Three separate representatives, three separate realms, and not one complaint among them."

"Not bad, for something I only started because you asked me to embroider a quick flag."

"Not bad at all," Arista agreed. "Okay. Emblem's approved. Let's go finish building the thing it's actually representing."