Today may be of special significance to many inhabitants of Camelot and its refugee population, but none could match the one on Lan Wangji's mind. Today has been a day for cherishing Wei Ying, to quite a bit of success already, thanks to Klaudia's wise forethought. And although it is evening now, the sun having set and the first stars beginning to show through a loose cloud cover, he isn't done with the day's purpose yet.
Having finished up dinner at one of their usual places, they are on their way back to the inn. Though, following Klaudia's example, Lan Wangji neglects to comment as he suddenly takes a turn onto a different route, one leading away from the inn. Whether Wei Ying notices or not, he will continue to walk down this new street bathed in the warm glow of pumpkin lanterns, steadfast and unperturbed as he is seemingly drawn to another destination entirely.
It's even odds but Wei Ying does notice the deviation from route, though he is only gently curious about the purpose of it, if any. Lan Zhan may want to see the pumpkins. Lan Zhan may want him to see the pumpkins, since he's been pretty enamored with every other aspect of this unusual holiday (look, it's at least a little funny, right? And the lanterns are festive!). Whether it's about him or just inscrutable Lan Zhan business, Wei Wuxian is happy to accompany him on any level of errand or idle postprandial stroll, and has gotten through most of his mischief energy allotment for the day already. Or perhaps he has mostly been appeased by gifts and attention.
This doesn't mean indirect prompting is off limits. “Lan Zhan has good ideas as always. It's not every year my birthday is a holiday, how can I let it be over so soon?”
The lanterns are certainly nice, at least those ones not decorated with monstrous and frightful grimaces. But not as nice as Wei Ying ever generous with his compliments. Lan Wangji can't help but duck his head a little, both pleased and grateful for Wei Ying's approval.
His comment prompts the uninvited thought that his birthday hadn't been a special day of any kind for many, many years, and Lan Wangji not in a position to take part in it even before then. But Wei Ying's good cheer and obvious enjoyment of this day makes the thought unusually easy to dismiss, to leave the past where it belongs and focus on what is ahead of them.
"It's not over yet," he agrees, or perhaps promises. But he still won't give away what he has in mind as he leads the way to a quieter area mostly populated by merchant buildings already closed for the night or in the process of closing. Surely piquing his curiosity is part of the gift.
This kind of unnecessarily gracious acceptance is exactly why Wei Wuxian makes such a hobby of being complimentary, though he also just means it, and sees no reason to be stinting about it. It's only what's right and proper, and there has to be some kind of positive reinforcement for being the Lan Zhan of today, observing and even drawing out birthdays for washed up demonic cultivators.
The curiosity is certainly a targeted gift, putting even more bounce into Wei Wuxian's generally unseemly steps as he quickly starts to lose the battle with gleeful impatience. What sort of gift requires being led away from the inn? What else can there even be to finish out such a day? He has no idea, and expresses his enjoyment primarily through whining, as is not uncommon.
“Lan Zhaaan! Not even a hint on my birthday? I can't believe this.”
The mock offense in Wei Ying's voice does a poor job of masking his obvious delight in the mystery, and Lan Wangji takes pride in having been right to be reticent. He watches him briefly from the corner of his eyes, taking in his joyful impatience and the mischievous glint in his eyes even as he complains of injustice. Childlike glee still suits Wei Ying best.
Of course this leaves Lan Wangji with the power of holding Wei Ying on the knife's edge between granting him a hint and keeping him in suspense, which he wields fully with a long drawn out moment of silence and a smug smirk playing at the corner of his lips. But in truth, he is only pretending to deliberate. It is his birthday, after all.
"Heaven and earth, a single tent, taking the heavens as my blanket, the earth as my sleeping mat."
Who would ever, in a thousand thousand years, believe him that Lan Zhan is like this? Smug, teasing even, and playing to win. How can it be right that Wei Wuxian is the one who gets to experience this, even on days that aren't his birthday? The justice in it has to be that he would never be believed.
Less incredible in the literal sense if not the complimentary is that Lan Zhan should remember some nonsense he said while drunk on a roof, what only feels like a thousand thousand years ago. This is an indescribable wonder (as would be Wei Wuxian remembering it himself, but he doesn't really, not in so many words, even if he remembers when he would have said it), but also does nothing to alleviate the curiosity. A roof, but what about it? He huffs mightily to cover any feelings of wonder and keeps pace. But no amount of performative sulking can keep the laughter out of his voice, even if such a reminder of his youthful behavior makes him cringe down to his teeth.
“I was too pretentious for a drunk on a roof, do you remember things like this just to punish me? It wasn't even a very good roof!”
Of course a good hint would only increase the intrigue, does Wei Ying think him an amateur? But whatever he is thinking, it must be something good, if making him laugh is any distinction. Lan Wangji's steps now too seem a little lighter, buoyed by pride and gladness. Perhaps Wei Ying truly is the vermilion that stains his decorum red.
But how could it not be, when Wei Ying unexpectedly recalls a scene from their youth and his heart overflows with warmth. And besides, he'd liked his drunken recital. Had liked being the focus of his vigil, the place he chose to rest that night, even if it had made leaving all the harder. Had liked it more than he could say, then or now.
The laughter and performance in Wei Ying's voice must make his own seem even softer in comparison when he replies, "Someone ought to remember." Someone should remember Wei Ying being pretentious and free of worries and beautiful in the moonlight in their youth. Undaunted and determined and playful. Boisterous and gregarious, careless and principled. Lan Wangji has remembered each of these things, because he loves Wei Ying and wishes to hold the thought of him always in his heart.
But Wei Ying needn't reply to any of it, as Lan Wangji soon stops by an empty cart parked against an unremarkable wall. Without hesitation, as if this cart had been his destination all along, he climbs into the back, from there grasps hold of a low beam protruding from the house and swings himself up into the rafters, which gives him access to the flat roof covering the wall. He turns and throws Wei Ying an expectant look, to see if he needs a hand up.
If there is any meaning to be ascribed to Lan Zhan's remark, it has to be chiding his memory, but he remembers enough to know a hand up would not have been forthcoming in their earlier days, and he returns a look of mild surprise of his own, quickly moved past as he reaches out, beaming. Does Lan Zhan think him an amateur? When has Wei Wuxian ever needed a hand up to a roof, with or without a core? But he would like one, and it's his birthday, so he's allowed. For now, if there is any continued bemusement, it is only the aftereffects of watching Lan Zhan's graceful and assured ascent, and the marvel that this is happening at all. Is he sure this isn't a weird dream? Wouldn't be that weird, actually.
His voice is hushed tight around mischief and glee, eyes alight with it, movements so careful like it's an effort to keep himself contained. “Lan Zhan! How are you like this now? Should we even be here?” This is clearly part of the enjoyment, even if he never gets to be chased off a roof with Hanguang-jun. “Well, whoever's roof this is should be honored! I am.”
Likewise, being asked for help would not always have been a matter of course, and Lan Wangji gladly leans down to grasp Wei Ying's hand. He ignores an ill lurch of his stomach quickly pulls him up to the ledge, steadying him with his other hand around his arm as they both get to their feet. From this position, his gaze falls once more on the orchid pin nestled in Wei Ying's hair and lingers there. Admiring... the craftsmanship.
But Wei Ying's excitement is impossible to remain untouched by and he allows himself a peek at his face so close to his own, radiant with delight. If there had ever been a moment's doubt that Wei Ying would enjoy this gift, it seems so foolish now. Isn't sneaking on a roof truly where Wei Ying is meant to be?
His own small part in Wei Ying's joy has his gaze dropping with an almost shy smile, squeezing his arm briefly before releasing him and turning to lead the way across the flat tiles of the wall. "Come on."
The wall lines a small courtyard, aglow in the warm light of pumpkin lanterns but otherwise silent. In its center grows a large maple tree, whose branches are adorned with a child's ghost and monster puppets for the holiday. Set up around it are a few currently empty stalls. Hopefully the fact that this is only some sort of business already closed for the night, and not someone's residence will not dampen the enjoyment too much.
With assured steps, Lan Wangji leads the way up to the actual roof comfortably angled and facing the courtyard. From a tavern a few doors down, faint music drifts over on the wind, and he gestures for his companion to take a seat and give his verdict of the spot.
Honored was really an understatement, but it's the best Wei Wuxian can do in the face of-- all this. Lan Zhan, his premeditated kindness, his incomprehensibly powerful demure smiles and contentment, the clear but unassuming pride he takes in having done such a thing. It should all be excruciating, this much fuss over a spoiled ghost, but the enchantment of the setting and the thrill of the circumstance goes a long way in keeping him settled.
Because it is enchanting. The verdict takes a moment to build, as Wei Wuxian lets the distant music and warming lantern light wash over him; if Lan Zhan can feel that this is where he's meant to be, the feeling is a hundred times stronger for Wei Wuxian, happy ghost haunting the fringes of human merrymaking with an unusual degree of peace. There are certainly times to be in the middle of things, but a time to just take in and observe is invaluable and restorative. Though perhaps the real restoration is in being known to such a degree. Perhaps it's for the best that he gets such a hallowed ambiance in which to experience this.
The verdict may be underwhelming, as it's just Wei Wuxian helping himself to a sprawled rooftop seat, with the pleased contentment of someone three times his age finding a much needed rest, all the buzzing unnamed feelings pushed down to his core to spare their fragility. “Lan Zhan is right as always,” is the sentiment he reiterates, in a tone of warm wonder. “Are you going to admire the moon? You have to sit, then it will be perfect.”
The verdict is clear to the one who can read it even before Wei Ying takes a seat; it's in the moment of quiet wonder and appreciation as he basks in the light and serenity of the scene, and Lan Wangji watches him openly with another kind of lightness in his heart. It must be something special indeed to leave Wei Ying wordless even for a moment. To see the contentment and peace in him as he accepts this place to rest with both the relief of all his years and the ease and unconcern of his youth, before all those things were stolen from him, is an unexpected gift of its own to Lan Wangji. To be able to give him this, it goes beyond pride at having chosen well; it's the unbelievable fortune of another chance to redress past regrets, it's the fulfillment of a vow he had made into a melody once. If this is where Wei Ying is meant to be, then Lan Wangji was meant to take him there.
So Wei Ying's warm words of approval he is prepared for, though no less grateful for them, but the rest he could not be more unprepared for. To be reminded of their first, fateful meeting on a roof, to be made an essential part of Wei Ying's contentment in all this-- It's a good thing the light of the lanterns barely reaches up here, shadows hopefully obscuring the warmth flushing his face. Of course he'll sit. Anything he asks, today and all days.
Lan Wangji takes his own seat, poised and contained as ever, leaving an excruciating appropriate small gap between them. It's not just the abundance of emotion stuck in his throat that keeps him silent for a spell, but also the desire to allow Wei Ying a little more time to settle into this peace. He continues to simply watch him, from under hooded eyes now, while a strange kind of nervous anticipation grows in his chest. He knows Wei Ying will enjoy the second part of his gift; why wouldn't he? It isn't as though he is bearing his heart to Wei Ying with it, it's only a small token Wei Ying is known to like, nothing even particularly private about it. A little sentimental, perhaps, as is only right for his birthday.
But the truth is, he bears his heart in everything he does, and this will be no different.
After a moment that surely felt longer than it was, Lan Wangji reaches into his sleeve and produces a pair of bottles of Emperor's Smile. Around each bottleneck, a small red ribbon holds a dried and pressed red chrysanthemum blossom in place. Wordlessly he offers these to Wei Ying with a hopeful smile.
Sometimes it really is hard to accept that this is his reality now, and not some kind of undeservedly merciful dream. What would the cultivation world think of this as his afterlife? Being doted on by its best constituent to a nearly incomprehensible degree. It seems a lot like getting away with something, even if they're not in Cloud Recesses and this is perfectly above board and he's not even sitting that close, to have his heart in his throat this way. For someone with a history of throwing himself into getting Lan Zhan's attention, having it is no less of a wonderful trial. It's formidable is what it is. As would be expected, if expecting it didn't seem like an exercise in madness, and for a shocked moment he can only stare in disbelief.
But peace can't last, and he scolds too loud for an evening roof, thrilled and transported, "Hanguang-jun, I can't believe you! And there's no one I can even tell, not that anyone else would believe me." He takes the pair of bottles with careful hands, smoothing his thumb over the lavish embossing in something like reverence before he meets Lan Zhan's eyes again, sincerity dipping in and out of mischief with dragonfly agility. "Thank you, for all of this. I only wish I could share." His mouth twists into something wry and remembering, but he won't do any making fun, not when he's been so spoiled. He cuts his eyes to the side, turning that impulse inward and towards the past. "But now the night really is perfect. I never thought I'd have this again, you know. Even before. I said so."
The joy and disbelief in the scolding is unmistakable and all his uncalled for doubts dissolve into warm pride and affection. With this, too, he has done right by Wei Ying, and even succeeded in surprising him. He watches Wei Ying's gentle handling of his gift, of this small token of the truth in his heart made real, mesmerized by the care and admiration in his hands. Not a little transported himself, though he just about manages to raise his gaze and meet his eyes in return.
Being thanked is unnecessary, when all this delight and his company are gratitude enough. But, it is nice. Though as he continues, his words evoke thoughts of the past in Lan Wangji as well, the wonder of the present moment casting into stark relief the desolation of a time when this had been impossible, and seemed impossible for the rest of his life. His own gaze sinks in remembrance, voice softly echoing the sentiment, "Neither did I." He knows Wei Ying is only talking about the wine, about that stretch of time when he would have had no access to it or most other pleasures, only expressing how rare and appreciated it is. But perhaps that means he can understand, just a little, what it means to Lan Wangji to have this again, to sit with him under the stars and see him smile.
But it isn't right to dwell on the past on a day meant to celebrate happiness and good fortune for the future, and Lan Wangji seeks to catch his eyes again, nodding encouragingly. "Try it?" The traders had sworn it would be an exact match, and the fragrance is right, but of course he couldn't confirm the quality for himself. Only Wei Ying would know.
There's no way his younger self would ever have been able to picture a day where Lan Zhan is encouraging him to sample liquor, even seeming eager for his judgment on it, the most outlandish thing yet. Not that knowing the possibility of it wouldn't have just made him even more insufferable, certainly. What Lan Zhan means by his agreement is less certain, and it's odd, to add another unthinkable thought to the pile; the less Lan Zhan ever thought about the closed door of his death, the better, surely. Being shut out from wine was the least of it.
No reason for Wei Wuxian to think about it either, when he is being so lauded (by Lan Zhan! The shine doesn't wear off) and has such an easy task placed before him instead. He frees and opens a bottle, still awed but now eager, as befits opening a gift, he thinks. The aroma is exactly as he'd waxed pretentiously poetic about so long ago, feels like a breeze that will carry him out of himself if he doesn't hold on to the present. How can he even be the same person he was breaking rules and bearing punishments in Cloud Recesses? It's unfathomable, that anything as simple as a fragrance can feel like a bright road to the past.
Well. If he has that to live up to, he has to do his poetic best. He holds the bottle up in a lazy toast, grinning like someone who's never been shaken by the passage of time. “To mountain flowers. Play for me tomorrow?” Without waiting for an agreement, or perhaps to better hide from it, he drinks, for once respectful enough he barely even spills.
Thankfully it only takes a little encouragement for Wei Ying to regain the boundless excitement that suits him so well. There is truly no need for thanks when he gets to see his gift received with such eagerness, and everything about this scene, from the way Wei Ying savors the wine's fragrance to his irreverent toasting gesture and his absolutely stunning smile carries Lan Wangji along to the past as well. To that time in their youth, untouched by all that was to come, could they return to it? Could they have really been granted the time and the space to try again?
Already so moved, Wei Ying's salute all but leaves him dizzy. Only after a breathless moment does some part of his reason recover and match the words to a poem of drunken companionship. It should be no surprise at all that Wei Ying so freely and skillfully finds words to overfill his heart with adoration and longing, and yet. He can only watch him drink, wide-eyed and wanting, though it isn't the taste of the wine he has to wonder at.
But Wei Ying's desire for a shared tomorrow will be enough for him. To play for him tomorrow and for all the days that follow is the easiest thing in the world to agree to. It escapes his heart softly, barely above a whisper, as if he is used to saying it only to himself and keeping it unheard. Though his gaze leaves no doubt as to who this promise is meant for. "Until the mountains fall."
That is a little harder to hide from than simple agreement, but Wei Wuxian will do his best not to wail and hide his face, and only curls in on himself a little, grinning helplessly. Add it to the pile of things from Lan Zhan he doesn't even begin to know how to dissect or internalise, but is thrilled and disbelieving to have, nonetheless. He understands enough now to know Lan Zhan would disavow owing him anything, which is right, or being owed anything in return, which is more questionable. But how can that be forever? How can Lan Zhan be like he is? Too thick faced by far.
"No mountains are falling here. Though if anyone could do it, it would be you." A testament to his stubbornness and righteous intractability, though surely the mountains would fall on their own just to be in agreement. Trust him to make such a declaration in the face of referencing something ephemeral. Even if it's so much less the kind of thing he'd be expected to wield in this reference game, and not even just for the sentimentality. If it were up to him, how could he deserve any of it? And yet it isn't, so why should he protest? Wouldn't that be worse? With a little sigh, content and wondering, he leans back out of his poor attempt at self-preservation from nice things, and tries to be normal about receiving exactly the attention he seeks out at all times in such a concentrated dose. Even if the light Hanguang-jun is bringing to this situation currently feels like maybe the sun at close range, or perhaps a cooking fire, that's a Wei Wuxian problem. Lan Zhan is simply too good.
"But let's leave them standing in appreciation, since all the best things come from a mountain or its shadow. The wine is at least as good as I remember. Maybe better, for being so unlooked for. But what's impossible, anymore?" Besides sharing, which is still the only regret there is. But it wouldn't do to trap Lan Zhan on a roof, even for his birthday.
He would gladly be trapped. Wei Ying's happy if charmingly startled grin can only be taken to mean that his promise, barely meant to be said aloud at all, was well received and he responds with an answering smile of his own, rarely so at ease in his affection. He listens to Wei Ying's praise and musings as another might listen to the breeze in the blossoms or the call of birds by the river, stirring and expressing the sentiment of their hearts in equal measure. It can be nothing short of forever, because he could never live without it again.
The wine is deemed good and Wei Ying is getting comfortable with it, so Lan Wangji lets his gaze drift for the moment down to the peaceful courtyard, observing the flaming red maple leaves still clinging to their branches. What's impossible anymore? Isn't it a kind of drunkenness to think just what has been made possible here? And that Wei Ying feels the same, finds it just as miraculous. Who needs wine to feel so light and warmed and a little bit unreal? But this is real, no longer a heartbroken dream, and a little of that wonder colors his voice. "Even autumn leaves can return to the tree."
What is autumn even for if not a vague air of unreality? But that is starting to be insufficient, in the face of so much. There's only so much he can not think about, and it's hardly like him, anyway. Would it be fair, even on his birthday, to ask anything of Lan Zhan? Who has certainly already done more than enough. Wei Wuxian tries to follow unspoken rules he can only extrapolate the existence of, but for whose sake, he's still unsure. It would be unseemly to question a sentiment that is noble enough to stand on its own, or draw attention to his own failing. But maybe some things were as inevitable as autumn wind, and it's less a fault than just misfortune. He tilts his head, like the weight of this is a real thing to gauge, rubs his nose half thoughtful, half sheepish.
"Only the very lucky ones, I think." Fault or not, it can't be deserved. Whatever, specifically, he has been returned to. Whether Lan Zhan is more changed than this life is different from his previous is not debatable, but only just. He twirls the bottle like that can dispel any of his overwrought feelings and drinks again, almost pointedly incautious. In a fight, it would be an invitation. He lets his voice turn querulous rather than awedly quiet. "Who knew Lan Zhan was so sentimental with verses? Or maybe this is just called being well-read. But still, how could I not be at least a little surprised?" Verses both high and rustic, yes, but also...the forbearance, the willingness to engage (without a sword), the peace. It's a shame not to have seen it come to be. "Sometimes I think you're very unpredictable even for me."
To hear that Wei Ying feels truly glad to have returned, a unique fortune even, is as intoxicating as the lingering sweet aftertaste of only the best wine. Every day since their arrival Lan Wangji has done all he could to make it so, to make it as it should be, as it should have been all along; Wei Ying content in his life. And, perhaps, content to be with him, Lan Wangji can allow himself to think in the unreality of this moment and with all the praise Wei Ying had bestowed on him earlier. It's a good thing his face is still turned towards the courtyard, to allow this smitten smile at least a little privacy.
As is his wont, Wei Ying has something to complain about even now, though it isn't the tone so much as the words that sober Lan Wangji's love-drunkenness. Of course, he should not be shocked that Wei Ying does not grasp the sentiments behind his verses, but to find him unpredictable? To find a part of him unknown... It draws his gaze like the chain of an anchor, turning to lock eyes with Wei Ying as if to better see, or be seen. He wants to ask, did he mean it as a compliment? Considering his fascination with the unknown, with paths untrodden. Is the reason not obvious, the years of separation between them not to blame? He advanced, and Wei Ying did not keep up. His confessions, just a credit to his studious nature... Only because you aren't looking, he wants to answer, and for a moment his desperation burns brightly in his eyes.
But not one of these thoughts should be said aloud. As always and quite literally, he swallows them down, will continue to keep them where they belong. To himself. Wei Ying does not need to see what he doesn't wish to see, what he has plainly never been inclined to see. With something like a sigh he turns away, though there is not a trace of harshness to his bearing nor his voice. "You shouldn't make fun. Drink your wine." With any luck, it will seem just enough like mild exasperation, as is his own wont.
It's just as well these thoughts aren't being said aloud, because Wei Wuxian wouldn't know if he should feel offended at being accused of not looking or ashamed at having to refute it. Who could blame him for thinking this way? Even if he's the highest ranking Lan Zhan scholar, it's at least somewhat because no one else is in the running. He's certainly looking back now, anyway, though with familiar, searching incomprehension only, no matter how hair-raisingly intent Lan Zhan can be. Who are the careful distances for, again, exactly. He isn't sure what elucidation he'd been trying to tease out in the first place; it's not like Lan Zhan is going to hurry to deny his unpredictable sentiments, or draw him a roadmap.
He shouldn't press his luck, anyway. But it is his birthday, and he did mean it as a compliment, at least with all the parts of his mind not currently meaning it as a challenge, as a feint. With Lan Zhan letting him out from under the pin of whatever that look had been, he is free to retreat to familiar ground, pouting into his wine instead of following instructions and positively aggrieved with the injustice of it all.
"Who's making fun? What kind of gratitude would that be, after all this? Lan Zhan should be as sentimental or as unpredictable as he likes. It's-- good. To see." The performance runs a little aground, and he has the rare feeling of a too thin face, or perhaps too much sun. "You can't say I'm making fun, when have I ever?"
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-06 01:17 am (UTC)Having finished up dinner at one of their usual places, they are on their way back to the inn. Though, following Klaudia's example, Lan Wangji neglects to comment as he suddenly takes a turn onto a different route, one leading away from the inn. Whether Wei Ying notices or not, he will continue to walk down this new street bathed in the warm glow of pumpkin lanterns, steadfast and unperturbed as he is seemingly drawn to another destination entirely.
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-09 08:28 pm (UTC)This doesn't mean indirect prompting is off limits. “Lan Zhan has good ideas as always. It's not every year my birthday is a holiday, how can I let it be over so soon?”
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-11 08:02 pm (UTC)His comment prompts the uninvited thought that his birthday hadn't been a special day of any kind for many, many years, and Lan Wangji not in a position to take part in it even before then. But Wei Ying's good cheer and obvious enjoyment of this day makes the thought unusually easy to dismiss, to leave the past where it belongs and focus on what is ahead of them.
"It's not over yet," he agrees, or perhaps promises. But he still won't give away what he has in mind as he leads the way to a quieter area mostly populated by merchant buildings already closed for the night or in the process of closing. Surely piquing his curiosity is part of the gift.
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-12 10:03 pm (UTC)The curiosity is certainly a targeted gift, putting even more bounce into Wei Wuxian's generally unseemly steps as he quickly starts to lose the battle with gleeful impatience. What sort of gift requires being led away from the inn? What else can there even be to finish out such a day? He has no idea, and expresses his enjoyment primarily through whining, as is not uncommon.
“Lan Zhaaan! Not even a hint on my birthday? I can't believe this.”
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-13 08:35 pm (UTC)Of course this leaves Lan Wangji with the power of holding Wei Ying on the knife's edge between granting him a hint and keeping him in suspense, which he wields fully with a long drawn out moment of silence and a smug smirk playing at the corner of his lips. But in truth, he is only pretending to deliberate. It is his birthday, after all.
"Heaven and earth, a single tent, taking the heavens as my blanket, the earth as my sleeping mat."
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-17 01:06 am (UTC)Less incredible in the literal sense if not the complimentary is that Lan Zhan should remember some nonsense he said while drunk on a roof, what only feels like a thousand thousand years ago. This is an indescribable wonder (as would be Wei Wuxian remembering it himself, but he doesn't really, not in so many words, even if he remembers when he would have said it), but also does nothing to alleviate the curiosity. A roof, but what about it? He huffs mightily to cover any feelings of wonder and keeps pace. But no amount of performative sulking can keep the laughter out of his voice, even if such a reminder of his youthful behavior makes him cringe down to his teeth.
“I was too pretentious for a drunk on a roof, do you remember things like this just to punish me? It wasn't even a very good roof!”
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-23 12:58 am (UTC)But how could it not be, when Wei Ying unexpectedly recalls a scene from their youth and his heart overflows with warmth. And besides, he'd liked his drunken recital. Had liked being the focus of his vigil, the place he chose to rest that night, even if it had made leaving all the harder. Had liked it more than he could say, then or now.
The laughter and performance in Wei Ying's voice must make his own seem even softer in comparison when he replies, "Someone ought to remember." Someone should remember Wei Ying being pretentious and free of worries and beautiful in the moonlight in their youth. Undaunted and determined and playful. Boisterous and gregarious, careless and principled. Lan Wangji has remembered each of these things, because he loves Wei Ying and wishes to hold the thought of him always in his heart.
But Wei Ying needn't reply to any of it, as Lan Wangji soon stops by an empty cart parked against an unremarkable wall. Without hesitation, as if this cart had been his destination all along, he climbs into the back, from there grasps hold of a low beam protruding from the house and swings himself up into the rafters, which gives him access to the flat roof covering the wall. He turns and throws Wei Ying an expectant look, to see if he needs a hand up.
(no subject)
Date: 2021-12-23 09:24 pm (UTC)Wouldn't be that weird, actually.His voice is hushed tight around mischief and glee, eyes alight with it, movements so careful like it's an effort to keep himself contained. “Lan Zhan! How are you like this now? Should we even be here?” This is clearly part of the enjoyment, even if he never gets to be chased off a roof with Hanguang-jun. “Well, whoever's roof this is should be honored! I am.”
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-02 06:15 pm (UTC)ignores an ill lurch of his stomachquickly pulls him up to the ledge, steadying him with his other hand around his arm as they both get to their feet. From this position, his gaze falls once more on the orchid pin nestled in Wei Ying's hair and lingers there. Admiring... the craftsmanship.But Wei Ying's excitement is impossible to remain untouched by and he allows himself a peek at his face so close to his own, radiant with delight. If there had ever been a moment's doubt that Wei Ying would enjoy this gift, it seems so foolish now. Isn't sneaking on a roof truly where Wei Ying is meant to be?
His own small part in Wei Ying's joy has his gaze dropping with an almost shy smile, squeezing his arm briefly before releasing him and turning to lead the way across the flat tiles of the wall. "Come on."
The wall lines a small courtyard, aglow in the warm light of pumpkin lanterns but otherwise silent. In its center grows a large maple tree, whose branches are adorned with a child's ghost and monster puppets for the holiday. Set up around it are a few currently empty stalls. Hopefully the fact that this is only some sort of business already closed for the night, and not someone's residence will not dampen the enjoyment too much.
With assured steps, Lan Wangji leads the way up to the actual roof comfortably angled and facing the courtyard. From a tavern a few doors down, faint music drifts over on the wind, and he gestures for his companion to take a seat and give his verdict of the spot.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-09 09:48 pm (UTC)incomprehensibly powerfuldemure smiles and contentment, the clear but unassuming pride he takes in having done such a thing. It should all be excruciating, this much fuss over a spoiled ghost, but the enchantment of the setting and the thrill of the circumstance goes a long way in keeping him settled.Because it is enchanting. The verdict takes a moment to build, as Wei Wuxian lets the distant music and warming lantern light wash over him; if Lan Zhan can feel that this is where he's meant to be, the feeling is a hundred times stronger for Wei Wuxian, happy ghost haunting the fringes of human merrymaking with an unusual degree of peace. There are certainly times to be in the middle of things, but a time to just take in and observe is invaluable and restorative. Though perhaps the real restoration is in being known to such a degree. Perhaps it's for the best that he gets such a hallowed ambiance in which to experience this.
The verdict may be underwhelming, as it's just Wei Wuxian helping himself to a sprawled rooftop seat, with the pleased contentment of someone three times his age finding a much needed rest, all the buzzing unnamed feelings pushed down to his core to spare their fragility. “Lan Zhan is right as always,” is the sentiment he reiterates, in a tone of warm wonder. “Are you going to admire the moon? You have to sit, then it will be perfect.”
(no subject)
Date: 2022-01-16 06:53 pm (UTC)So Wei Ying's warm words of approval he is prepared for, though no less grateful for them, but the rest he could not be more unprepared for. To be reminded of their first, fateful meeting on a roof, to be made an essential part of Wei Ying's contentment in all this-- It's a good thing the light of the lanterns barely reaches up here, shadows hopefully obscuring the warmth flushing his face. Of course he'll sit. Anything he asks, today and all days.
Lan Wangji takes his own seat, poised and contained as ever, leaving an
excruciatingappropriate small gap between them. It's not just the abundance of emotion stuck in his throat that keeps him silent for a spell, but also the desire to allow Wei Ying a little more time to settle into this peace. He continues to simply watch him, from under hooded eyes now, while a strange kind of nervous anticipation grows in his chest. He knows Wei Ying will enjoy the second part of his gift; why wouldn't he? It isn't as though he is bearing his heart to Wei Ying with it, it's only a small token Wei Ying is known to like, nothing even particularly private about it. A little sentimental, perhaps, as is only right for his birthday.But the truth is, he bears his heart in everything he does, and this will be no different.
After a moment that surely felt longer than it was, Lan Wangji reaches into his sleeve and produces a pair of bottles of Emperor's Smile. Around each bottleneck, a small red ribbon holds a dried and pressed red chrysanthemum blossom in place. Wordlessly he offers these to Wei Ying with a hopeful smile.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-12 08:05 pm (UTC)But peace can't last, and he scolds too loud for an evening roof, thrilled and transported, "Hanguang-jun, I can't believe you! And there's no one I can even tell, not that anyone else would believe me." He takes the pair of bottles with careful hands, smoothing his thumb over the lavish embossing in something like reverence before he meets Lan Zhan's eyes again, sincerity dipping in and out of mischief with dragonfly agility. "Thank you, for all of this. I only wish I could share." His mouth twists into something wry and remembering, but he won't do any making fun, not when he's been so spoiled. He cuts his eyes to the side, turning that impulse inward and towards the past. "But now the night really is perfect. I never thought I'd have this again, you know. Even before. I said so."
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-13 10:02 pm (UTC)Being thanked is unnecessary, when all this delight and his company are gratitude enough. But, it is nice. Though as he continues, his words evoke thoughts of the past in Lan Wangji as well, the wonder of the present moment casting into stark relief the desolation of a time when this had been impossible, and seemed impossible for the rest of his life. His own gaze sinks in remembrance, voice softly echoing the sentiment, "Neither did I." He knows Wei Ying is only talking about the wine, about that stretch of time when he would have had no access to it or most other pleasures, only expressing how rare and appreciated it is. But perhaps that means he can understand, just a little, what it means to Lan Wangji to have this again, to sit with him under the stars and see him smile.
But it isn't right to dwell on the past on a day meant to celebrate happiness and good fortune for the future, and Lan Wangji seeks to catch his eyes again, nodding encouragingly. "Try it?" The traders had sworn it would be an exact match, and the fragrance is right, but of course he couldn't confirm the quality for himself. Only Wei Ying would know.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-02-20 11:38 pm (UTC)No reason for Wei Wuxian to think about it either, when he is being so lauded (by Lan Zhan! The shine doesn't wear off) and has such an easy task placed before him instead. He frees and opens a bottle, still awed but now eager, as befits opening a gift, he thinks. The aroma is exactly as he'd waxed pretentiously poetic about so long ago, feels like a breeze that will carry him out of himself if he doesn't hold on to the present. How can he even be the same person he was breaking rules and bearing punishments in Cloud Recesses? It's unfathomable, that anything as simple as a fragrance can feel like a bright road to the past.
Well. If he has that to live up to, he has to do his poetic best. He holds the bottle up in a lazy toast, grinning like someone who's never been shaken by the passage of time. “To mountain flowers. Play for me tomorrow?” Without waiting for an agreement, or perhaps to better hide from it, he drinks, for once respectful enough he barely even spills.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-04-18 07:58 pm (UTC)Already so moved, Wei Ying's salute all but leaves him dizzy. Only after a breathless moment does some part of his reason recover and match the words to a poem of drunken companionship. It should be no surprise at all that Wei Ying so freely and skillfully finds words to overfill his heart with adoration and longing, and yet. He can only watch him drink, wide-eyed and wanting, though it isn't the taste of the wine he has to wonder at.
But Wei Ying's desire for a shared tomorrow will be enough for him. To play for him tomorrow and for all the days that follow is the easiest thing in the world to agree to. It escapes his heart softly, barely above a whisper, as if he is used to saying it only to himself and keeping it unheard. Though his gaze leaves no doubt as to who this promise is meant for. "Until the mountains fall."
(no subject)
Date: 2022-05-06 12:47 am (UTC)"No mountains are falling here. Though if anyone could do it, it would be you." A testament to his stubbornness and righteous intractability, though surely the mountains would fall on their own just to be in agreement. Trust him to make such a declaration in the face of referencing something ephemeral. Even if it's so much less the kind of thing he'd be expected to wield in this reference game, and not even just for the sentimentality. If it were up to him, how could he deserve any of it? And yet it isn't, so why should he protest? Wouldn't that be worse? With a little sigh, content and wondering, he leans back out of his poor attempt at self-preservation from nice things, and tries to be normal about receiving exactly the attention he seeks out at all times in such a concentrated dose. Even if the light Hanguang-jun is bringing to this situation currently feels like maybe the sun at close range, or perhaps a cooking fire, that's a Wei Wuxian problem. Lan Zhan is simply too good.
"But let's leave them standing in appreciation, since all the best things come from a mountain or its shadow. The wine is at least as good as I remember. Maybe better, for being so unlooked for. But what's impossible, anymore?" Besides sharing, which is still the only regret there is. But it wouldn't do to trap Lan Zhan on a roof, even for his birthday.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-06-19 06:05 pm (UTC)He would gladly be trapped.Wei Ying's happy if charmingly startled grin can only be taken to mean that his promise, barely meant to be said aloud at all, was well received and he responds with an answering smile of his own, rarely so at ease in his affection. He listens to Wei Ying's praise and musings as another might listen to the breeze in the blossoms or the call of birds by the river, stirring and expressing the sentiment of their hearts in equal measure. It can be nothing short of forever, because he could never live without it again.The wine is deemed good and Wei Ying is getting comfortable with it, so Lan Wangji lets his gaze drift for the moment down to the peaceful courtyard, observing the flaming red maple leaves still clinging to their branches. What's impossible anymore? Isn't it a kind of drunkenness to think just what has been made possible here? And that Wei Ying feels the same, finds it just as miraculous. Who needs wine to feel so light and warmed and a little bit unreal? But this is real, no longer a heartbroken dream, and a little of that wonder colors his voice. "Even autumn leaves can return to the tree."
(no subject)
Date: 2022-08-28 06:05 pm (UTC)"Only the very lucky ones, I think." Fault or not, it can't be deserved. Whatever, specifically, he has been returned to. Whether Lan Zhan is more changed than this life is different from his previous is not debatable, but only just. He twirls the bottle like that can dispel any of his overwrought feelings and drinks again, almost pointedly incautious. In a fight, it would be an invitation. He lets his voice turn querulous rather than awedly quiet. "Who knew Lan Zhan was so sentimental with verses? Or maybe this is just called being well-read. But still, how could I not be at least a little surprised?" Verses both high and rustic, yes, but also...the forbearance, the willingness to engage (without a sword), the peace. It's a shame not to have seen it come to be. "Sometimes I think you're very unpredictable even for me."
(no subject)
Date: 2022-10-09 11:24 pm (UTC)As is his wont, Wei Ying has something to complain about even now, though it isn't the tone so much as the words that sober Lan Wangji's love-drunkenness. Of course, he should not be shocked that Wei Ying does not grasp the sentiments behind his verses, but to find him unpredictable? To find a part of him unknown... It draws his gaze like the chain of an anchor, turning to lock eyes with Wei Ying as if to better see, or be seen. He wants to ask, did he mean it as a compliment? Considering his fascination with the unknown, with paths untrodden. Is the reason not obvious, the years of separation between them not to blame? He advanced, and Wei Ying did not keep up. His confessions, just a credit to his studious nature... Only because you aren't looking, he wants to answer, and for a moment his desperation burns brightly in his eyes.
But not one of these thoughts should be said aloud. As always and quite literally, he swallows them down, will continue to keep them where they belong. To himself. Wei Ying does not need to see what he doesn't wish to see, what he has plainly never been inclined to see. With something like a sigh he turns away, though there is not a trace of harshness to his bearing nor his voice. "You shouldn't make fun. Drink your wine." With any luck, it will seem just enough like mild exasperation, as is his own wont.
(no subject)
Date: 2022-11-27 12:51 am (UTC)Who are the careful distances for, again, exactly.He isn't sure what elucidation he'd been trying to tease out in the first place; it's not like Lan Zhan is going to hurry to deny his unpredictable sentiments, or draw him a roadmap.He shouldn't press his luck, anyway. But it is his birthday, and he did mean it as a compliment, at least with all the parts of his mind not currently meaning it as a challenge, as a feint. With Lan Zhan letting him out from under the pin of whatever that look had been, he is free to retreat to familiar ground, pouting into his wine instead of following instructions and positively aggrieved with the injustice of it all.
"Who's making fun? What kind of gratitude would that be, after all this? Lan Zhan should be as sentimental or as unpredictable as he likes. It's-- good. To see." The performance runs a little aground, and he has the rare feeling of a too thin face, or perhaps too much sun. "You can't say I'm making fun, when have I ever?"