( After all, Lan Wangji cannot plead for the unaffiliated defector of another sect. But he can intercede for his spouse.
And so he must, humbling himself, knees and floor to ground, and his pride battered and his privileges forgotten. He will go before his brother to ask as he never has, as he never should.
Holding nothing back. )
This evening. ( This cannot wait until tomorrow. ) Forgive me. Eat with Yuan alone. Shall dine with brother.
[At the very least their son is not the type to cry if one of his favorite people is not around for a bit, even if he may get extra clingy later.]
I assume you'll return home late, too. [Which means Yuan will be bereft of his other father for longer. Wei Wuxian might have to think of a few ways to get him to sleep.]
( If his prediction holds, he will be withheld first for explanations before his sect leader, then, unworthily, to bring his matter before the elders of the sect whole, called to an emergency conclave. But Wei Ying need not concern himself with Lan Wangji's private humiliation.
It happens, or it doesn't. He weathers it, or he doesn't. Either way, Wei Ying's cause must and will prevail. Too many lives depend on it.
And so, cautiously but resolutely, he releases Wei Ying. )
[Wei Wuxian will soon enough, it's almost time for Lan dinner-- time really flew when they were speaking, and when they were just holding onto each other for comfort. But he's not completely ready to let go of Lan Zhan's steady, strong warmth.
He wraps his arms around Lan Zhan's shoulders, presses his hands between wide shoulder blades connected by thick muscle. Straightens up, and bestows a kiss onto his husband's forehead, just above the embroidered ribbon so he can feel warm skin under his lips. One more sign of affection, and a hope for good fortune.]
Whatever happens, you are mine, and I take care of me and mine.
[Then he stands, adjusting his wrinkled clothes and wrapping his overcoat around him properly to prepare for the colder air outside.]
Let's dine together tomorrow as a family, all right?
( Together, as a family. How it breaks him to think that he has now two vulnerable dependents in his care, that he may never rely on Wei Ying for his own resilience. That this man, whom he kisses again, impassively, will age the quicker, the uglier, alone.
That even in the best of worlds, Lan Wangji will mourn his passing. He shudders, and it is cruel. Shudders, and it is ache. Shudders, and it is unthinkable.
Then, with utmost care, as Wei Ying stands first, he withdraws into himself, remembering the expectations cast upon Lan Wangji of Gusu Lan, how he must show, at long last, strength. )
Let it be done.
( And just so, hesitantly but bolstered, he raises himself to seek out his brother's counsel. )
[He fvors Lan Zhan one last smile before he goes off to peek in on Yuan, and collect him when it's time for all good little ones to return home, or the nursery.
An evening in Cloud Recesses without his husband... lonely. Made less so with their son who has so many tales to tell about his afternoon, but he still feels the lack of Lan Zhan's presence keenly. A-Yuan seems to agree, because he crawls into bed with Wei Wuxian, and the two curled up together in a small corner of the bed, the child almost engulfed by Wei Wuxian's robes and the blanket he has wrapped around them.
Wei Wuxian thought he could have stayed awake until Lan Zhan returned, but he's exhausted by the emotional responses from the afternoon, he's out like a candle as soon as Yuan snuggles into him.]
First, the talk with Zewu-Jun, murmured, sedate. Hix brother's agony to hear Lan Wangji has breached every etiquette and succumbed Cloud Recesses in a diplomatic quagmire. His gladness after, that Hanguang-Jun has met contentment.
Then his uncle, the same tale, reception gelid but firm. It is a choice made, and it will be honoured, and the unorthodox Wei Wuxian will receive what respect the sect can spare him. Then, their elders, faces wan, drawn, guarded.
At several points, Lan Wangji is dismissed, then called again for questions. More often than not, the words are the same. He does not lose patience. He does not begrudge.
Not until midnight has long fled, and he is sent to his quarters. There, dim candle light, gentle warmth. His two charges, sleeping.
He shames himself, barely sparing the time to silently pass water over his body, before slipping into sleeping silks and retiring on the lesser bed, prepared for Yuan. A bad fit, but inevitable.
Come morning, he wakes first, body startled by habit. He hushes the child, himself already awake, and calls him for ablutions. By the time of Wei Ying's own stirring, they wait at the low table, breakfast long brought and Lan Wangji taking his tea. )
[Wei Wuxian wakes, not because it's his usual time, but because he's lost the baby cuddling him, his small source of warmth. He sits up blearily, and goes through the motions of the morning the same way, wandering about and washing his face with cold water, then draping himself against Lan Zhan's warm back and sighing into his neck.]
G'mornin' Lan Zhan...
[Then he picks up Yuan and clings to him like a little pillow, listening to the child giggle as he snuffles into his hair.]
( Late, if somewhat productive, his mouth curled in an unbothered line. There are words to speak, all discouraging. He cannot serve Wei Ying his doubts. Instead, he answers the affection with a squeeze of Wei Ying's arm, with the tip of his head.
His mouth chases the ghost of Wei Ying's warmth, missing his cheek. Ah. So be it.
Yuan, at least, is thoroughly satisfied, laughing at the onslaught of affection. Lan Wangji shifts to allow them their easy exchange, turning instead to devote himself to filling out three of the unused, clinking bowls, to excess with the breakfast offering. )
Brother and the elders convene today among themselves.
( Best they do not trouble themselves with the conclusion. )
To distract himself from his anxiously-beating heart, he leans in to peck a kiss onto Lan Zhan's cheek, a proper morning greeting for his husband.]
A shame, we could have left A-Yuan with your brother for the day so they can get acquainted. [And for Wei Wuxian to be free of childminding duties so he can attach himself to Lan Zhan the way a snail attaches to any surface.
Then he shamelessly deposits Yuan in between them, so the boy can feel the warmth of both of his fathers.]
( Unknowingly, Yuan — who, despite the tumultuous nature of his upbringing, still finds the manners to look up questioningly at Lan Wangji before picking out the finer crisp vegetables from his bowl — acts as a shield between them. It is an art not to wage a war of anxieties, between two men grown.
Lan Wangji finds both of their protests and questions silent, suspended. Their war unwaged, their mouths sweet and tame. Here, inevitably, they must act at their finest, and so he briefly diverts himself with the child, teaching him, also, to fill out Wei Ying's bowls. Duly attended. )
Eat with us. ( In truth, by now, Wei Ying will be eating either alone or with the rare companionship of Yuan, who picks away at the dregs of what's gone untouched of Lan Wangji's portion. ) Yuan wishes to see his infant disciple friends.
( To think, brought here to vacation with his caretaker, and he abandons Wei Ying shamelessly for the nursery. )
Their minder has to be more careful today. [No surprises that the name has already been forgotten.] I heard from a certain little radish that he taught the children where babies come from and grow.
[Then he strokes the back of his hand over one cheek. Yuan is not as chubby as his new friends, but Wei Wuxian hopes that he will fill out nicely by the end of the week. Then he starts giving Yuan the finest pickings from his bowl.]
Better hope the Gusu Lan vegetable patch is strong enough to withstand multiple children trying to plant each other in it, otherwise.
( ...oh. Oh, no. So many of these children would wish for siblings. After the war, Cloud Recesses fell and felt quieter. So much so that Lan Wangji cannot fault them a certain enthusiasm for company.
Still, this cannot be allowed to pass. With a light adjustment of his voice, he taps his own arm, calling forth a butterfly to deliver a soft-worded message to the caretaker. A diplomatic endeavor, likely to earn immense gratitude.
He turns back to Wei. Ying, one brow raised incredulously, after. )
And who taught Yuan such things? ( Beside him, a-Yuan's mouth opens wide as he stares at Wei Ying, as if he too wishes to say, Caught! )
[Instead of looking abashed or shocked at being outed like this, Wei Wuxian grins widely, a reflection of his smiles and laughter in his younger days, and a much larger mirror of Yuan's own. They may not be blood-related, but there's no mistaking who Yuan's father is, who taught him that expression.
Then he turns to his breakfast and takes up his chopsticks to fill his stomach in preparation for the day. He's being a good boy and following the Lan rules. No speaking during meals.
Deliberately planned to get a reaction out of his husband. And if it gets another giggle out of Yuan, that's a victory in itself.]
( Well, then. Let not Lan Wangji's disbelieving, staggered stare — amplified by Yuan, who imitates it flawlessly — ruin the moment. Surely, they can both hold vigil over Wei Ying's saddening attempt to relinquish responsibility with all gravity.
He does not roll his eyes. Does not look away. Only pivots to sipping his tea, aggressively glaring down the last of Wei Ying's meal, all the better to will it out of existence. )
Shall keep Wei Ying company, while Yuan educates the disciples. ( Apparently, on matters of reproduction. )
[It feels good, he thinks, to get on Lan Zhan's nerves like this, being judged for his mischief rather than his cultivation. It's been so long, and this makes him feel a little more alive, like the last years of war and poverty and sleeping on cold hard ground or rocks aren't as bad as they are. He really feels like Wei Ying in this moment, rather than Wei Wuxian or the Yiling Patriarch.
He dutifully finishes his meal in time so Lan Zhan can properly speak to him again, raising one arm so Yuan has room to crawl into his lap.]
A day without my radish that I pulled out of the dirt myself? It's a good thing I'm going to be with my husband, or else my heart will break from loneliness!
( What shall they do? Strategy dictates they should flood their schedule, finding a way to distract themselves from their current predicament. It won't do to meander over the same subject, over and over and over again. Not at all.
And so, he considers the matter of how he can occupy a grown man, coming slightly empty-handed, before brilliance strikes, and despair polishes it: )
Bathe in the cold stream. ( In the midst of winter. An undertaking only the Lan clan may enjoy, and that even some of its members might find troubling. Yes. A fine notion. )
[That's not an answer he was expecting, nor welcoming.
Wei Wuxian reels back, horror written all over his face.]
Lan Zhan! It's the middle of winter! [He clutches Yuan to his chest, as if he can stave off the cold just by having a child against him. Yuan is barely old enough to handle fall though, and he still needs a lot of extra layers to help him with winter.
At least he's used to Wei Wuxian's dramatics, and bears the clutching with ease.]
...thought it pleasing. ( Truly, Wei Ying's expression would sooner suit a funeral, yet here he is, determined to bury Lan Wangji with a glance, if he so much as flinches in the direction of materialising his suggestion.
In his arms, young Yuan shudders, and Lan Wangji raises both hands now, bewaring the possibility of mutiny. Mercy, mercy. )
We may linger here. ( Better to sweeten this offer — ) Where it is warm.
( And where Lan Wangji may seemingly reconsider his countless wrongs. )
[At that, Wei Wuxian relaxes. A day of doing nothing but lazing about... in the Cloud Recesses, no less! He could have only imagined this in his dreams. Yuan, however, has different ideas and asks if he can still go meet with his friends.]
Aiya, of course you can. You have too much energy in the mornings, someone needs to tire you out, and who better than a dozen little monsters like you?
[He stands, tossing Yuan up in the air a couple of times for no reason other than to hear him squeal with glee, and then sets him down and pats him on the back.]
Go get your clothes, time to get dressed. [And the reprieve gives Wei Wuxian time to lean on Lan Zhan.]
( They are together, alone, briefly. He thinks, more fool he, to nudge his husband to don his own day clothes, now that he has played long enough with his food. But then Wei Ying leans on him, their quarter is empty as Yuan fumbles in the adjacent one, and he takes his chance — lips crossing Wei Ying's temple in his own good morning.
They will have either all the time in the world, or barely these few hours. He cannot think of the worst outcome, therefore must prove — negligent with their time together. Slow. Indolent. )
Do you wish inks brought? ( For drawing, calligraphy. A leisure activity to occupy Wei Ying, if they're to spend a snowy day indoors. ) Weiqi?
[Wei Wuxian didn't even try to wheedle his good morning kiss from Lan Zhan, knowing that he'd had a long night, but he's still happy to receive it anyway. And he really should trust the man, when he wouldn't break a promise.
Every day is every day.]
Ink and paper would be nice to have on-hand if I get ideas. [He sighs and rests his cheek on Lan Zhan's shoulder.] Sometimes I can't help myself, I need to write it down and get to work, even if I'm doing something else.
Aiya, do you know how difficult it is when your thoughts refuse to be quiet and your fingers just need to work, but there's nothing on hand to put it all down on? I've lost good ideas to that-- I can't even remember any of it anymore!
( Ink, paper. More butterflies, same as the one gently requesting an escort for young master Yuan. The caretaker himself flies over, undaunted by the light powdering of snow dripping down outside, unwilling to surrender a child to the trek.
He introduces them again, Yuan and his one-day teacher, all pleasantries duly exchanged before the two excuse themselves. The caretaker, perhaps less enthusiastic than his charge, who hops and gasps and points and falls in awe at everything. Anything at all.
And so, left behind, watching them from the window as they disappear into a singular blitzing point in the horizon, Lan Wangji assesses his would-be husband once more. )
[In the time it takes for the paper to arrive and Yuan to be led away, Wei Wuxian has dressed himself properly-- two additional layers, just skirting along the lines of propriety.
And then he immediately descends on the supplies, grinding the inkstone so he can scribble Taoist diagrams on a pristine, expensive sheet of paper, complete with inkblots and awful calligraphy.]
I am, I am! I don't think I've felt this rested in a long time, Lan Zhan. And Yuan is so happy to have more playmates than just me.
Which hurts, a little. But I can only keep up with him to a point.
[To say nothing of his poor grandmother, the closest blood relative he has and the person he spends more time with than with Wei Wuxian. The things he must put her through.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He's not going to have his shame further spread! He's so relieved that he practically sags in Lan Zhan's lap, and clings to him for support.]
You'll tell him? Along with your discussion about the Wens? [The very talk that sparked Wei Wuxian's decision to tell his husband his troubles.]
All right. I'm not sure I like being treated like a delicate flower, but all right.
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( After all, Lan Wangji cannot plead for the unaffiliated defector of another sect. But he can intercede for his spouse.
And so he must, humbling himself, knees and floor to ground, and his pride battered and his privileges forgotten. He will go before his brother to ask as he never has, as he never should.
Holding nothing back. )
This evening. ( This cannot wait until tomorrow. ) Forgive me. Eat with Yuan alone. Shall dine with brother.
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[At the very least their son is not the type to cry if one of his favorite people is not around for a bit, even if he may get extra clingy later.]
I assume you'll return home late, too. [Which means Yuan will be bereft of his other father for longer. Wei Wuxian might have to think of a few ways to get him to sleep.]
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( If his prediction holds, he will be withheld first for explanations before his sect leader, then, unworthily, to bring his matter before the elders of the sect whole, called to an emergency conclave. But Wei Ying need not concern himself with Lan Wangji's private humiliation.
It happens, or it doesn't. He weathers it, or he doesn't. Either way, Wei Ying's cause must and will prevail. Too many lives depend on it.
And so, cautiously but resolutely, he releases Wei Ying. )
You recall the path. Go collect him.
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He wraps his arms around Lan Zhan's shoulders, presses his hands between wide shoulder blades connected by thick muscle. Straightens up, and bestows a kiss onto his husband's forehead, just above the embroidered ribbon so he can feel warm skin under his lips. One more sign of affection, and a hope for good fortune.]
Whatever happens, you are mine, and I take care of me and mine.
[Then he stands, adjusting his wrinkled clothes and wrapping his overcoat around him properly to prepare for the colder air outside.]
Let's dine together tomorrow as a family, all right?
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That even in the best of worlds, Lan Wangji will mourn his passing. He shudders, and it is cruel. Shudders, and it is ache. Shudders, and it is unthinkable.
Then, with utmost care, as Wei Ying stands first, he withdraws into himself, remembering the expectations cast upon Lan Wangji of Gusu Lan, how he must show, at long last, strength. )
Let it be done.
( And just so, hesitantly but bolstered, he raises himself to seek out his brother's counsel. )
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An evening in Cloud Recesses without his husband... lonely. Made less so with their son who has so many tales to tell about his afternoon, but he still feels the lack of Lan Zhan's presence keenly. A-Yuan seems to agree, because he crawls into bed with Wei Wuxian, and the two curled up together in a small corner of the bed, the child almost engulfed by Wei Wuxian's robes and the blanket he has wrapped around them.
Wei Wuxian thought he could have stayed awake until Lan Zhan returned, but he's exhausted by the emotional responses from the afternoon, he's out like a candle as soon as Yuan snuggles into him.]
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First, the talk with Zewu-Jun, murmured, sedate. Hix brother's agony to hear Lan Wangji has breached every etiquette and succumbed Cloud Recesses in a diplomatic quagmire. His gladness after, that Hanguang-Jun has met contentment.
Then his uncle, the same tale, reception gelid but firm. It is a choice made, and it will be honoured, and the unorthodox Wei Wuxian will receive what respect the sect can spare him. Then, their elders, faces wan, drawn, guarded.
At several points, Lan Wangji is dismissed, then called again for questions. More often than not, the words are the same. He does not lose patience. He does not begrudge.
Not until midnight has long fled, and he is sent to his quarters. There, dim candle light, gentle warmth. His two charges, sleeping.
He shames himself, barely sparing the time to silently pass water over his body, before slipping into sleeping silks and retiring on the lesser bed, prepared for Yuan. A bad fit, but inevitable.
Come morning, he wakes first, body startled by habit. He hushes the child, himself already awake, and calls him for ablutions. By the time of Wei Ying's own stirring, they wait at the low table, breakfast long brought and Lan Wangji taking his tea. )
Good morning.
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G'mornin' Lan Zhan...
[Then he picks up Yuan and clings to him like a little pillow, listening to the child giggle as he snuffles into his hair.]
Were you late last night?
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( Late, if somewhat productive, his mouth curled in an unbothered line. There are words to speak, all discouraging. He cannot serve Wei Ying his doubts. Instead, he answers the affection with a squeeze of Wei Ying's arm, with the tip of his head.
His mouth chases the ghost of Wei Ying's warmth, missing his cheek. Ah. So be it.
Yuan, at least, is thoroughly satisfied, laughing at the onslaught of affection. Lan Wangji shifts to allow them their easy exchange, turning instead to devote himself to filling out three of the unused, clinking bowls, to excess with the breakfast offering. )
Brother and the elders convene today among themselves.
( Best they do not trouble themselves with the conclusion. )
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To distract himself from his anxiously-beating heart, he leans in to peck a kiss onto Lan Zhan's cheek, a proper morning greeting for his husband.]
A shame, we could have left A-Yuan with your brother for the day so they can get acquainted. [And for Wei Wuxian to be free of childminding duties so he can attach himself to Lan Zhan the way a snail attaches to any surface.
Then he shamelessly deposits Yuan in between them, so the boy can feel the warmth of both of his fathers.]
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Lan Wangji finds both of their protests and questions silent, suspended. Their war unwaged, their mouths sweet and tame. Here, inevitably, they must act at their finest, and so he briefly diverts himself with the child, teaching him, also, to fill out Wei Ying's bowls. Duly attended. )
Eat with us. ( In truth, by now, Wei Ying will be eating either alone or with the rare companionship of Yuan, who picks away at the dregs of what's gone untouched of Lan Wangji's portion. ) Yuan wishes to see his infant disciple friends.
( To think, brought here to vacation with his caretaker, and he abandons Wei Ying shamelessly for the nursery. )
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Their minder has to be more careful today. [No surprises that the name has already been forgotten.] I heard from a certain little radish that he taught the children where babies come from and grow.
[Then he strokes the back of his hand over one cheek. Yuan is not as chubby as his new friends, but Wei Wuxian hopes that he will fill out nicely by the end of the week. Then he starts giving Yuan the finest pickings from his bowl.]
Better hope the Gusu Lan vegetable patch is strong enough to withstand multiple children trying to plant each other in it, otherwise.
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Still, this cannot be allowed to pass. With a light adjustment of his voice, he taps his own arm, calling forth a butterfly to deliver a soft-worded message to the caretaker. A diplomatic endeavor, likely to earn immense gratitude.
He turns back to Wei. Ying, one brow raised incredulously, after. )
And who taught Yuan such things? ( Beside him, a-Yuan's mouth opens wide as he stares at Wei Ying, as if he too wishes to say, Caught! )
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Then he turns to his breakfast and takes up his chopsticks to fill his stomach in preparation for the day. He's being a good boy and following the Lan rules. No speaking during meals.
Deliberately planned to get a reaction out of his husband. And if it gets another giggle out of Yuan, that's a victory in itself.]
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He does not roll his eyes. Does not look away. Only pivots to sipping his tea, aggressively glaring down the last of Wei Ying's meal, all the better to will it out of existence. )
Shall keep Wei Ying company, while Yuan educates the disciples. ( Apparently, on matters of reproduction. )
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He dutifully finishes his meal in time so Lan Zhan can properly speak to him again, raising one arm so Yuan has room to crawl into his lap.]
A day without my radish that I pulled out of the dirt myself? It's a good thing I'm going to be with my husband, or else my heart will break from loneliness!
[Then he leans on Lan Zhan's shoulder.]
What shall we do today, Lan Zhan?
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And so, he considers the matter of how he can occupy a grown man, coming slightly empty-handed, before brilliance strikes, and despair polishes it: )
Bathe in the cold stream. ( In the midst of winter. An undertaking only the Lan clan may enjoy, and that even some of its members might find troubling. Yes. A fine notion. )
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Wei Wuxian reels back, horror written all over his face.]
Lan Zhan! It's the middle of winter! [He clutches Yuan to his chest, as if he can stave off the cold just by having a child against him. Yuan is barely old enough to handle fall though, and he still needs a lot of extra layers to help him with winter.
At least he's used to Wei Wuxian's dramatics, and bears the clutching with ease.]
Do you want me frozen?
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In his arms, young Yuan shudders, and Lan Wangji raises both hands now, bewaring the possibility of mutiny. Mercy, mercy. )
We may linger here. ( Better to sweeten this offer — ) Where it is warm.
( And where Lan Wangji may seemingly reconsider his countless wrongs. )
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Aiya, of course you can. You have too much energy in the mornings, someone needs to tire you out, and who better than a dozen little monsters like you?
[He stands, tossing Yuan up in the air a couple of times for no reason other than to hear him squeal with glee, and then sets him down and pats him on the back.]
Go get your clothes, time to get dressed. [And the reprieve gives Wei Wuxian time to lean on Lan Zhan.]
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They will have either all the time in the world, or barely these few hours. He cannot think of the worst outcome, therefore must prove — negligent with their time together. Slow. Indolent. )
Do you wish inks brought? ( For drawing, calligraphy. A leisure activity to occupy Wei Ying, if they're to spend a snowy day indoors. ) Weiqi?
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Every day is every day.]
Ink and paper would be nice to have on-hand if I get ideas. [He sighs and rests his cheek on Lan Zhan's shoulder.] Sometimes I can't help myself, I need to write it down and get to work, even if I'm doing something else.
Aiya, do you know how difficult it is when your thoughts refuse to be quiet and your fingers just need to work, but there's nothing on hand to put it all down on? I've lost good ideas to that-- I can't even remember any of it anymore!
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He introduces them again, Yuan and his one-day teacher, all pleasantries duly exchanged before the two excuse themselves. The caretaker, perhaps less enthusiastic than his charge, who hops and gasps and points and falls in awe at everything. Anything at all.
And so, left behind, watching them from the window as they disappear into a singular blitzing point in the horizon, Lan Wangji assesses his would-be husband once more. )
You are well?
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And then he immediately descends on the supplies, grinding the inkstone so he can scribble Taoist diagrams on a pristine, expensive sheet of paper, complete with inkblots and awful calligraphy.]
I am, I am! I don't think I've felt this rested in a long time, Lan Zhan. And Yuan is so happy to have more playmates than just me.
Which hurts, a little. But I can only keep up with him to a point.
[To say nothing of his poor grandmother, the closest blood relative he has and the person he spends more time with than with Wei Wuxian. The things he must put her through.]
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