I combine a deep Valentine emotion with a feathered creature that flies. Together, we describe an inseparable romantic couple sitting together on a branch. What am I?

I am born in the dark, live a short and bright life, and leave behind a pool of tears when I die. What am I?

My walls are built of frozen blocks and my roof is a smooth dome, yet inside my icy shield sits a surprisingly warm shelter. What am I?

I hold plenty of green seaweed but zero paper money, keeping all of my vaults wide open to the rolling beach tide. What am I?

I describe the freezing air of a cold winter night, but add an 'I' to my end and I become a hot, spicy bowl of stew. What am I?

I am full of grains but you can never bake bread with me, and I mark the passing hours on a sunny beach or inside an hourglass. What am I?

I am the past tense of standing up from your chair, but with crimson petals, fragrant perfume, and sharp thorns, I am handed over as a Valentine classic. What am I?