[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]

"Yes, there is." No louder.

He pushed Lan Zhan away by his own doing when he was alive. It had seemed his best -- his only -- option; the help he offered was not a help Wei Wuxian could ever fully accept. He still cannot. No Clarity. No Cleansing. No Rest.

But in this, he could allow himself to take the hand Lan Zhan extends to him, if he wished. Maybe he should. If Lan Zhan wishes to help so badly --

(And yet. And yet.)

[lightamidchaos]

He shakes his head, but does not push any further.

With a quick glance at Wei Ying to be sure he does not protest, he reaches for the towel draped nearby and starts to fold it around the bundled robes, doing so with infinite care.

[acrookedpath]

He nods, and does not protest.

The bloodied robes disappear under the soft, pristine mourning white of the towel. He does not know what became of his body, and he would never be so cruel as to ask Lan Zhan. Most likely, he thinks, it was burned like Wen Qing and Wen Ning.

This is the closest he may find to a burial. To Rest.

[lightamidchaos]

He makes a small, square packet of it, tucking the edges of the towel in at the sides and folding them over each other until everything is secure.

Finished, he picks up the neat bundle and glances first at the chest, then at Wei Ying.

[acrookedpath]

And if this is to be his burial --

"We should." He swallows. "Place it somewhere else. Not here." A helpless smile. "I'm not sure where. Outside? Or -- in a few weeks, when you are free -- "

[lightamidchaos]

He goes very still.

Until Wei Ying spoke, Lan Wangji had somehow not realized that he had meant it when he said that he would not need these robes any longer.

But I have you for that now.

What if the robes are in fact an anchor of some sort, keeping Wei Ying grounded in existing here? What if without them, he--

Unreasoning panic wells up inside him, and he slams it back down with pure strength of will.

If the robes are an anchor, if this place is not different and Wei Ying is somehow a trapped ghost, unable to move on until the tie is freed, then Lan Wangji will help him do so. And if he is not - if this place, this inn, is what it seems, then--

"Whatever Wei Ying wants," he manages, at last - and makes himself look at him.

"Tell me. What you want. I will do it."

[acrookedpath]

"Outside," he echoes. Gently, he takes the folded packet of cloth from Lan Zhan's hands. "In the lake, perhaps. Weighed down with stones."

He has already asked Lan Zhan for so much; to ask him to bring the robes home, and bury them where they cannot be found, is far too much.

[lightamidchaos]

"Outside," he confirms, but searches Wei Ying's expression carefully.

"If you are sure, Wei Ying. If you would rather I - it is no trouble, truly --"

[acrookedpath]

He hesitates, eyes falling back to the bundle.

(If he wants to help, and Wei Wuxian cannot accept so much of what he wants to give -- would it not be a kindness to let him have this?)

"Only if it is no trouble," he says at last, low. "Only then. I do not know... no, I do," he corrects himself with a humorless laugh. "I know no one would have bothered to give me any kind of rites. If you would bury these, at least?"

[lightamidchaos]

No one would have bothered--

He feels himself grow cold as he remembers the raging of the sects' disciples at the Burial Mounds, the ache in his weakened and bleeding arm as he fought to protect, to defend the little that was left.

Wei Ying is right. He himself had been unable to do so, and no one else had thought to give him rites. They sought only to destroy everything, including his very spirit if they could.

Jiang Wanyin still does.

"It is no trouble," he says, just as quiet. "Truly, it is not. I will do it."

[acrookedpath]

His smile returns, small as it may be.

"Then I will trust them to you, Lan Zhan," he says, and presses the bundle back into his hands.

[lightamidchaos]

He can feel his fingers tremble as he carefully takes the bundle of fabric from Wei Ying.

Still kneeling beside him, Lan Wangji gives him a slow, formal half-bow, the best he can manage.

[acrookedpath]

His heart trembles in his chest. Wei Wuxian returns the bow with just as much care, unable to put a name to the ache under his ribs. Only the words: this is right.

And then his smile broadens, and he sets a hand on Lan Zhan's arm.

"Come. We still have tea, and you still have your things to gather from what the Ninth returned to us."

[lightamidchaos]

He nods, and rises to his feet.

Cradling the wrapped robes to his chest with one hand, he takes his qiankun bag out and opens it. Carefully, he stores the bundle inside, then closes and stows the qiankun bag once more.

Only then does he cross the room to rejoin Wei Ying at the table, and take up his token again.

[acrookedpath]

Wei Wuxian sips his tea as Lan Zhan works. His head feels a little clearer, but sleep still clings at the edges like cobwebs, trapping stray thoughts here and there before they can form fully. Another three pots of tea may help, but for now, they only have the one. Sleep may be the only proper way to fix this.

It is the last thing he wants to do, especially since he cannot ask Lan Zhan to stay in case he has another nightmare, but -- it is all he can do.

(If he asks Lan Zhan to stay, he knows he will. And that will risk his departure from Cold Pond Cave being discovered.)

For the sake of not worrying him, he keeps himself awake and cheerful until Lan Zhan has collected all his things. He bows a goodbye; promises, I will see you tonight, Lan Zhan.

And then he topples back into their joined beds like a falling tree, and -- mercifully -- does not dream of his sister again.

[lightamidchaos]

He stops to speak with Bar-guniang in low tones before leaving, requesting a small metal bowl, incense, and a supply of joss paper which some would find sufficient for at least three people.

As far as he's concerned, it's the bare minimum required.

With a bow of thanks, he adds these items to his qiankun bag and leaves for Cold Pond Cave.

Wei Ying will have his burial rites.