[ open post: Lan Wangji and guests ]

[lightbearinglord]

In the wake of his disorienting and unpleasant stint in Gu Xiang's body, Lan Wangji has done his utmost to resume and enjoy all of his usual pursuits. He has, he believes, thoroughly made up for his lapse in his promise to Wei Ying. He has wielded kitchen knives, his ink brush, and Bichen with precision and enthusiasm. He has sunk into long, restorative shichen of meditation. He has, at Claudius' behest, thoroughly perused Emily Post's instructions regarding how to conduct oneself as the best man at a wedding.

There is the matter of his qin, too. The discovery of the spirit in Gideon's sword struck Lan Wangji with greater surprise than he might have expected. Such things were once commonplace for him; he hardly went two weeks, before he came to this place, without finding himself called to some night-hunt. He does not like to believe that he could become complacent, and he has always practiced diligently, but still.

The tableau is a familiar one: a certain parlor near the entryway of the mansion, one that often houses this particular cultivator along with his spiritual instrument. Wangji is balanced on a table at the center of the room, polished black wood gleaming and strings freshly tuned, and Lan Wangji sits cross-legged before it. He is not actually playing it at this precise moment, however, because he currently has guests. A small white rabbit sits next to the qin, munching his way through a piece of lettuce. An equally small brown rabbit is perched in the crook of Lan Wangji's elbow, eyeing his brother with some envy. Ostensibly, the rabbits are in trouble, because they have recently laid waste to Lan Wangji's copy of Emma. It is impossible to tell, because Lan Wangji is petting Danding's head with exactly as much solemn focus as always.

Comments

[futaille]

Grantaire has read Cultivation 101 from the welcome table, so even if the finer brushstrokes of that picture elude him, he knows what Lan Wangji means by that enough that it doesn't at all seem like a non sequitur. "Oh, there's little question in my mind that you'll do well once you understand how it works. I'm mostly curious to see how well."

[lightbearinglord]

It would be insufferably arrogant to expound on the strength of his cultivation, so Lan Wangji only nods, persistently solemn. "As am I."

[futaille]

"Good!" He looks down at Xiaoxue. "Do you have more lettuce, or would another leaf be too much right now?"

[lightbearinglord]

"I have more, and he may have more," Lan Wangji assures Grantaire. To prove it, he produces a fresh lettuce leaf and tears it in half. One half for Xiaoxue, one for Danding. He passes Xiaoxue's half over.

[futaille]

"Thank you." Grantaire promptly takes the lettuce and offers it to Xiaoxue. "More for you, monsieur. I hope you are delighted."

[lightbearinglord]

Indeed, Xiaoxue is entirely delighted, and sets to demolishing this lettuce with tidy efficiency. Lan Wangji sets Danding into his lap, on his knee specifically, and feeds him his own portion without delay, out of fairness. This leaves him free to actually, finally, put his hands to his qin and begin playing.

[futaille]

He looks over as Lan Wangji starts to play. It's a curious sound, not quite like any instrument he's heard before, either in tone or how the music itself sounds.

Now, of course he hardly hesitates to interrupt speech if he feels the need, but there's nothing to rebut or scoff at in music, so he just carefully shifts, mindful of the rabbit still in his arms, and stretches out comfortably on the floor, settling Xiaoxue on his chest and absently stroking his head with his fingertips along to the music.

[lightbearinglord]

Honestly, Lan Wangji is not certain whether he actually expected Grantaire to settle in response to the sound of the qin, but he is glad that he did. His music has rarely been for the benefit of an audience of greater than one or two, except in the heat of battle or an attempted exorcism. He has yet to find himself craving more.

With Danding occupied and peaceful on his knee and Xiaoxue tucking himself into equal calm on Grantaire's chest, he plays. He works his way through a few slow but complex melodies of his own composition, meant to be set to words from the Shijing, the work of his youth when he would spend days doing nothing but sitting with the qin and studying its theory.

[futaille]

Grantaire lies there and listens. A few snippets of lyrics of his own invention flit through his head for a while, but they're hard to come by when he doesn't know the melody, so he eventually just listens.

He's not a man inclined to nap¹ as a rule, but the slow and soothing notes of the qin coupled with the warmth of Xiaoxue on his chest are almost impossible to resist as his breathing evens out and he drifts off.

¹Passing out drunk doesn't count.

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji notices nearly at the very moment that sleep claims Grantaire. It comes close to coaxing him into a smile. Xiaoxue, too, is on the verge of sleep, satiated and content, and Danding is wakeful but at peace.

He continues to play, unwilling to disturb Grantaire. He is pleased enough to persist with his music as a backdrop for restfulness.