[pfsb] ritual aftermath

[lightamidchaos]

He takes Wei Ying from the ritual and back to the room upstairs as quickly as he can, half-wild with worry that he tries to hide.

The other man is unsteady on his feet, dizzy from the vast amounts of resentful energy that had crashed down on them all by the lake. Add to that Harrow's own power, the shock of seeing Jiang Yanli's ghost inhabiting one of the skeletons Harrow had animated, and--

He could curse himself for a fool, and will, later. Right now, there are more important matters.

Comments

[acrookedpath]

Wei Wuxian groans, heartily, but it trails into a laugh soon enough.

"I should not have said anything," he says. "You will worry and fuss for so long you will not go home until shēn hour, and when Zewu-jun comes to bring you lunch you will have to explain you visited an inn at the end of the world. What then! He will think you're crazy! They will test you for fever, they will force-feed you soup..."

[lightamidchaos]

"He is not to visit today. You need not worry," he says, dryly.

He squeezes Wei Ying's hand, then lets go and reaches for his forehead ribbon, still hanging on the nearby hook.

[acrookedpath]

"Does that mean you will not receive any lunch?" He is aghast -- mostly playful, still, but there's a new sharpness to his gaze. "Lan Zhan! I should be fussing over you! I will send you home with entire boxes of food, just wait."

He pokes Lan Zhan in the knee.

[lightamidchaos]

"Mn."

He finishes tying his ribbon as he avoids looking at Wei Ying. He has no intention of telling Wei Ying that he is expected to practice inedia during the day, only taking a meal in the evening.

The knee jab, however, draws a quick look of startled disbelief. He shakes his head and gets to his feet, reaching for the rest of his clean robes where they hang draped over the footboard.

[acrookedpath]

Wei Wuxian beams, utterly guileless at disrupting Lan Zhan's routine, and returns to his tea.

Lan Zhan's lack of an answer does not ease his worries. He knows too well that the other man will deflect, or stay silent, if he does not want to speak the truth. And -- as it takes one insufferable person incapable of accepting help to know another -- getting him to bring back any food from the inn will be difficult.

(The old fury over Lan Zhan's seclusion sits in his belly like a hot coal. It smolders quietly; it flares a little brighter, now, as he pictures Lan Qiren walking away from Cold Pond Cave. As he imagines resentful energy twining around his own hands, ready to strike in revenge for the damage done to Lan Zhan.)

[lightamidchaos]

He finishes dressing and fixes his hair with quick, deft motions, then looks at Wei Ying.

"I will not be long."

Suiting actions to words, he goes quickly to the door, and disappears through it, downstairs to the common room.

[acrookedpath]

Cheerily, Wei Wuxian waves good-bye as Lan Zhan heads out the door.

As soon as the talisman shimmers to lock everything back in place, his smile fades, and he drops his hand with a long, long sigh. His teacup is nearly empty; he refills it, curls up at the headboard, and looks out the window of his room.

They're up high enough that he can only see a thin strip of the grounds before they fade out into the woods. The inlet isn't visible; there's only a sliver of a corner of the lake, blue-green water lapping gently at the shore. No ice. No mist. No coffin floating in the water, with something so angry inside that it would obliterate a universe if let free.

(He should have just called for the energy. It would have hardly been missed from a ghost that violent.)

He glances to Lan Zhan's outer robes where they hang from the privacy screen. An ugly water line breaks them in two at the chest. It must be from when he went to speak to the Ninth, he thinks tiredly. He can only hope he will not be punished for that as well.

At least his headache is nearly gone. All he needed was some tea after all.

[lightamidchaos]

As promised, it does not take long. When he returns, the tray he carries contains congee for them both, the now-usual bottle of chili oil for Wei Ying, and a plate with several steamed buns.

He sets everything on the low table, then goes to the bed to retrieve the tea and brings that over as well.

"Wei Ying. Come eat."

[acrookedpath]

He rouses himself from the window, pulls up a small smile for Lan Zhan, and rises to join him at the table. His legs feel a little wobbly, his limbs a little too heavy now that he's asking them to move; it's probably just because he's still tired, he thinks. Or because he needs the breakfast Lan Zhan's provided worse than he thought.

As usual, he smothers his congee in enough chili oil to leave him practically breathing fire, and digs in without a flinch. After a few moments he adds one of the steamed buns to his plate -- red bean paste, he discovers when he bites into it. Perfect.

[lightamidchaos]

Wei Ying is unusually quiet as they eat, and Lan Wangji cannot stop himself from casting more than one concerned glance in his direction.

Eventually, he says,

"I did not see Harrow downstairs."

It is not the first time he has broken silence during meals, not where Wei Ying is concerned.

"But I told her before that you would wish to speak with her. About the ritual."

[acrookedpath]

Hastily, he swallows a bite of his congee and nods.

"I don't know how much she would be able to tell me, if she doesn't know exactly what happened, either," he says. "But -- I still wish to learn. The way her thanergy interacted with the spirits, the resentful energy she called..."

Tired as he is, a familiar spark lights in his eyes.

"I know there is much I am missing."

[lightamidchaos]

"The resentful energy. Yes."

He has now lost all appetite, but he makes himself finish the congee all the same, so that it will not be wasted. He takes a swallow of tea, trying to wash it down and clear his throat.

It mostly works.

"... you should know," he says, abruptly. "Before you ask her. She expects me to tell you, anyway."

[acrookedpath]

The spark of curiosity fades, replaced by concern. He sets down his spoon.

"What is it?"

[lightamidchaos]

"A secret."

Someone must be told. Why not you, why not now?

"The vault. In the dark. When the resentful energy surged. You saw it?"

He is not entirely certain how much Wei Ying was aware of, at the very end.

[acrookedpath]

"I saw the coffin. And the ice." The furrow deepens between his eyebrows. "Was there more?"

By the end, he wasn't aware of much beyond the paper in his hands, the vortex of resentful energy, and his slowly-losing battle to stay conscious.

[lightamidchaos]

"Mn."

There is no possible way that he knows of to explain the look on Harrow's face as she had stared at the tomb, and so he does not even try.

"The coffin." A beat of silence falls. "The Tomb."

[acrookedpath]

The weight he places upon that last word --

Wei Wuxian straightens up as the realization hits.

"The Locked Tomb. The one she prays to?"

[lightamidchaos]

He nods.

"She was still in the ocean. When I returned."

Come a little closer, Hanguang-jun.

"I do not know if she would have spoken of it, otherwise."

[acrookedpath]

That explains the tide line on Lan Zhan's robes, he thinks distantly.

"She was able to drag the entire Tomb to the inn?" Stunned. "Something that vengeful -- and that's what her people worship," he realizes. "What she has pledged her life to. She faced that every day and she still lives?"

Three months of exposure in the Burial Mounds nearly killed him. Would have killed him, had he not learned his crafty tricks. And the Ninth has stood before her Tomb for seventeen years.

[lightamidchaos]

"What they guard," he corrects, very quietly. "What they are supposed to guard. So that what lies inside might remain suppressed."

He feels increasingly hollow inside, as the slow-growing realization of just what Harrow's actions as a child may mean for her now continues to spread through him in the cold light of morning.

[acrookedpath]

" -- right, right," he realizes. "I pray the rock is never rolled away. You are right, Lan Zhan. I think I will need another three pots of tea before my mind is clear again."

Ruefully, he scoops up the last bite of his congee.

[lightamidchaos]

"Mn."

He draws a long, slow breath.

"But it was."

[acrookedpath]

He blinks, mouth still full of congee.

"Hnh?"

[lightamidchaos]

"The rock."

Very, very quietly - almost unconsciously so, as if to keep the secret from being overheard by anyone else.

"Was rolled away. Harrow opened the Tomb."

[acrookedpath]

Breathing would be a good idea at some point, he decides. In Milliways, unfortunately, being dead does not eliminate the need for air.

Wei Wuian manages to swallow his food. It sticks unpleasantly to his gullet the whole way down, and his spoon clatters as he drops it back into the bowl.

"When?" He's gone pale. "Not when we were -- is that why the resentful energy -- ?"