Lan Wangji (
lightamidchaos) wrote2020-10-16 08:50 pm
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[pfsb] sword forms by the lake
It is late afternoon by the time he makes his way outside.
Lan Wangji is well aware that Wei Ying would probably very much prefer him to be resting again at present, and in truth he likely should be, especially given what had just come to pass in the library not long before.
But. But. It has been three days, and he needs to know how much strength he can regain, how quickly, before he returns to Cold Pond Cave and faces his brother, tomorrow.
(He is fairly certain Shufu did not intend the injuries to be quite as severe this time, either. Fairly certain.)
Bichen flashes into his hand, gleaming along the blade with a faint, icy blue-white shine. Lan Wangji draws a deep breath, and begins to move through each of the Lan sword forms in a slow motion routine, his concentration absolute.
Lan Wangji is well aware that Wei Ying would probably very much prefer him to be resting again at present, and in truth he likely should be, especially given what had just come to pass in the library not long before.
But. But. It has been three days, and he needs to know how much strength he can regain, how quickly, before he returns to Cold Pond Cave and faces his brother, tomorrow.
(He is fairly certain Shufu did not intend the injuries to be quite as severe this time, either. Fairly certain.)
Bichen flashes into his hand, gleaming along the blade with a faint, icy blue-white shine. Lan Wangji draws a deep breath, and begins to move through each of the Lan sword forms in a slow motion routine, his concentration absolute.
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Lan Wangji says this very quietly.
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Quieter: "Will you be punished again if you do not answer?"
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He looks down at Wei Ying.
“Requiring me to answer was not part of it. My uncle took my silence as an admission of guilt. It is why the punishment was so harsh.”
“Xichen will want to know why.”
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"Will you stay silent? Or will you tell him?"
He can't imagine Lan Zhan would tell him; they would believe he'd gone mad. But --
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“He will be worried. I am sorry for that. If I can find a way to reassure him, I will. Otherwise...”
He shrugs, and stops there.
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"I would not know how to explain the inn either, if I was in your place." Quietly. "I hope he will not pry too much. And that he will accept your reassurances without causing any more difficulty."
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"I have -- hurt him, before."
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"Xichen knows -- me," he starts. "We have always, always been close. More than most."
He finds he cannot speak of why, of their childhood, not here, not now. Not yet.
But he does not want Wei Ying to hate his brother. He has to try, somehow, to explain; to help him understand.
"He has always trusted me. Even when he did not understand. He would-- would have helped, if he could have. After--"
He cannot stop himself. His arms tighten around Wei Ying, as if afraid he will be snatched away, as he remembers those long months, that first awful year.
"-- he tried, and I - I would not let him near. He feared... I would do something, something rash--"
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Something rash.
"Lan Zhan," he says, voice thin.
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"It is not that I meant to do anything," he says, finally. "But I also did not ... especially care, for a while, what happened to me. After I was whipped, I was not... well. For some time."
It is an understatement, he knows, but it is hard enough for him to speak of it at all. And Wei Ying has seen his scars, and will draw his own conclusions in any case.
"But Xichen -- he never stopped trying to reach me, throughout everything. And eventually, I -- I let him -- I stopped trying to drive him away, when he came to spend time with me."
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And Xichen --
He should have stood up to your uncle, he wants to protest. How could he have stood by and let it happen at all?
But even so... Xichen was there when Wei Wuxian, by the very nature of the events, could not be. He turned his firm guidance toward Lan Zhan to lead him from the worst of the dark. He returned again and again to keep Lan Zhan from being entirely alone.
Wei Wuxian swallows hard, and manages another quick, wordless nod.
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"If I can reassure him, I will."
Another moment's silence descends, and he adds,
"... he will also probably use his rank to bring a healer into Cold Pond Cave. So you can rest assured I will continue to be seen to."
He sounds more than a little resigned to that.
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"I will not refuse you."
Not any longer; not in this.
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He's quiet a moment, focused on the soft rise and fall of Lan Zhan's chest, the quiet beat of his heart.
"And I am glad Zewu-jun was there for you." No louder. "That he made sure you did not -- lose yourself, after."
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He does not say anything. He cannot find words.
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"I love you," he whispers against Lan Zhan's skin. "To know you're here, and you still live -- I wish I had not only been here a month. I wish it had been three years, so I could have seen you and spoken to you all this time."
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His voice is choked.
"Wei Ying. That you -- that you are here, that you love me, too -- it is more, more than I ever -- than I thought could ever--"
His voice cracks as words fail him, and a shudder runs through his body as he fights for control.
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He pulls himself higher in the embrace: no longer curled against Lan Zhan's chest, but eye to eye, hands cradling his face. "Ah, Lan Zhan, don't cry, it's all right."
He cannot remember seeing Lan Zhan cry before; at the cliff, maybe, but so much of that is a blur --
"It's all right," he repeats softly, brushing Lan Zhan's hair back with his fingertips.
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"I love you," he whispers. "My Wei Ying."
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"I love you, too." Another kiss, softer. "My zhiji."
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"Yes."
He kisses him again, leans their foreheads together, and just breathes.
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But Lan Zhan loves him. Lan Zhan has never meant him harm, this entire time. If he did not always understand Wei Wuxian, in the days they were both still alive... he does now. He seeks to continue understanding.
He knows him best of anyone.
A few strands of Lan Zhan's hair catch on the emblem tied to Wei Wuxian's wrist. Gently, he frees them to continue running his fingers through his hair.
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"I will love you always," he says, softly. "Know that. For all my life, and after."
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