[ closed post: hold fast to the center ]

[lightbearinglord]

With Dark behind them, most of Lan Wangji's routine has managed to reassert itself. He awakens at mao hour and disentangles himself from his clinging cultivation partner, who tends to sprout several additional limbs in the night. He dresses and slips away for his morning meditation. He takes Bichen to the air, circles the grounds of the mansion and checks the woods for any changes beyond the known quantities of Ragnelle's nest and Magnus' camp, and runs through his sword forms. He stops in the kitchen and makes breakfast for his husband. By that point, his day can branch in several ways: he can, upon bringing the breakfast to Wei Ying, also opt to return to his bed, a perpetually tempting option. He can find Magnus and indulge in listening to him talking about whatever strikes his fancy. He can practice his qin, work on his calligraphy, retreat to the library for the endless project of educating himself, or embark on some more ambitious culinary endeavor.

Recently, however, Lan Wangji was reminded of a promise he made to someone important. Where possible, he prefers to keep his promises. So this morning, after he has sufficiently fed Wei Ying, made his apologies in the form of several lingering love-bites along his neck and shoulders, and changed his boots for house slippers, he approaches Claudius and Galahad's room. This route is one of the few persistently familiar paths that seem to exist in the ever-changing mansion.

It is early, but not so early. And Claudius did ask him for this, not once but twice. He lifts a hand and knocks crisply at the door.

Comments

[wickedwit]

It isn't so early, and the sunrises are slowly coming earlier -- Claudius doesn't spend as long dragging himself out of bed for breakfast. And now that Laertes and Sagramore have looped him into the meal rotation, he looks forward to seeing them and seeing what they bring. But the sun through the window is deceptive, Claudius knows, and he's still in his dressing gown and huddled under the warmth of the kotatsu, considering risking the chill and checking the birdfeeders when Lan Wangji knocks. He reluctantly leaves the heated sanctuary -- but when he opens the door, he's glad of it. "Wangji! What an unexpected pleasure."

[lightbearinglord]

Despite the absence of a smile, the look on Lan Wangji's face is unmistakably warm, pleased to have caught the person he was hoping to see and, quietly, just as pleased to be received with gladness for his presence. "You asked to meditate with me."

[wickedwit]

"I did, didn't I?" Both times Claudius asked, he was rather beside himself -- it takes a moment to remember, but only a moment. "And you're not a man to avoid saying no until the other party forgets they ever asked. Well, come in. Even the workbook recommends meditation -- can you believe that? I have a workbook," he adds, for helpful context.

[lightbearinglord]

Indeed, if Lan Wangji had not wanted to do this, it would have been evident from the moment Claudius asked. So bidden, he steps inside. He likes to see the ways in which this room has evolved over time, from the day that he sat in it as Claudius grappled with Galahad's absence to this morning, when it could not be more obvious that this is a home for two people. Unaware of the meal rotation, and keenly aware of his own tendency to grow fond of people who are poor at caring for themselves, he produces two still-warm youtiao from his qiankun pouch, wrapped neatly in wax paper, and presses them into Claudius' hand. "What is the purpose of the workbook?" he asks, sincerely curious.

[wickedwit]

The warmth of the parcels surprise Claudius -- he sets one down, then unwraps the other. No sooner does he start to devise words of thanks than he recalls their promises. No thanks are necessary. He takes a bite, and finds it tears easily, with the same delectable texture as some of Laertes's or Galahad's pastries. "It's a remedy book," he says, covering his mouth as he chews. Thanks or no, he's still civilized. "Or akin to one. Rather than a list of recipes and aliments, it's a list of questions meant to inspire self-reflection, with some rather pointed suggestions. Evidently, avoidance is symptom of my aliment." He rolls his eyes at that, because it really is obnoxious. He thought avoidance was his best coping strategy. "It's called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which is a mouthful."

[lightbearinglord]

"Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder," Lan Wangji repeats, to be certain that he has it right. If Claudius has a workbook, then no doubt the library can provide him with further information later, but he can make some educated guesses based on the name. There's no need to ask what the trauma is. The thought of it stings a little, but not so sharply when paired with the sight of a relatively cheerful Claudius eating youtiao in his dressing gown. "And meditation will help you recover?"

[wickedwit]

Truth be told, when Claudius opened the workbook, he expected to check off a single, obvious trauma and kept finding more connected to it, like ripping up ground-ivy and seeing how far the roots spread. It's made progress slower-going than it would be otherwise -- but it helps to think of an aliment with symptoms to uncover, rather than a vice of cowardice he'd rather not confess. "It's presented as an alternative to avoidance. Avoidance functions as an anesthetic, I suppose, like using liquor to numb the pain during a field surgery -- which serves well enough, when nothing else is available. But after a certain point it's like the wound has grown gangreneous under the bandages, and ignoring it does more harm than good. So I'm meant to do other things. Talk to someone, mindfully breathe, meditate." He casts a sidelong look of who would have thought?

[lightbearinglord]

Meditation as a practice that opposes avoidance. It makes clear enough sense, when Lan Wangji thinks of it. He has never known how to avoid himself, even when it might have been a soothing option, even when shame threatened to drag him irrevocably into its grip. He has only ever been able to clearly see the things he would rather not, his fears and desires and pains, and let them pass through him, as deep as they run. He imagines he would not have survived his seclusion otherwise.

"You may do any of those things with me," he says, as plain as he can be. "It may be difficult. Releasing your thoughts requires facing them first. But it will not be impossible, and I will be with you."

[wickedwit]

Claudius's first thought is that it's too early and he's too sober to be this sincerely touched, and his second thought is that that’s probably a pattern. He doesn’t have to be drunk and distempered to have a sincere feeling, but one does tend to lead the other. Perhaps such thoughts always come up later because never lets them see the light of day.

"The reverse is true, too, I'm sure you know,” he says, after a moment fighting his self-consciousness. “I’m with you. We’re equals.”

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji is grateful, just now, that Claudius knows him, and that he will see the softening look of affection that lights his face. "I know." Pushing past his own hesitations, he sets a hand at Claudius' shoulder, heavy enough that it can't be mistaken for a reluctant touch. "Eat, make yourself ready, and then come with me."

[wickedwit]

Then Claudius takes a moment savoring the fluffy youtiao (and since he knows Galahad likes fluffiness, he makes sure to reserve the second youtiao for him to try whenever he returns to their room today). "This is quite good," he observes. "Shouldst thou ever make too many of these, thou shouldst bring them to the café. Thou couldst be one of our patissiers, alongside Laertes and Galahad."

[lightbearinglord]

"Thank you," Lan Wangji says; it's an almost reflexive politeness, but he does mean it. In the absence of most of his old methods by which to be helpful, he has found it more and more fulfilling to ensure that the people around him are well-fed. "Perhaps I can make a better impression on the café than I did at the talent show."

[wickedwit]

“I thought thou madest a magnificent impression,” Claudius says, quite cheerfully. “I bade thee to impress thy husband, and so thou didst. And I learned we share a common interest, though we’ve never spoken of it.”

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji narrows his eyes in a credibly playful performance of suspicion. "You are not referring to rearranging furniture," he says dryly.

[wickedwit]

"No, I always find a fit young man to do that." More to the point, he says, "Making proper bindings is both a skill and talent. And to do it so swiftly! It shows a practiced hand." He is aware that Lan Wangji has no memory of lashing together Wei Wuxian's wrists with his hair ribbon, in front of an audience, but he still deserves to be commended. In Claudius's opinion, it was quite the commendable and creative use of a hair ribbon.

[lightbearinglord]

Regrettably -- or perhaps not -- that was not the first time Lan Wangji has done that in front of an audience after a drink, and the audience the first time was arguably a worse one. At least he married his victim in the interim. There is nothing he can do to stop the immediate and predictable reddening of his ears, but he manages to gather himself in order to say, with perfect gravity to it, "He escapes too quickly if it is done improperly."

[wickedwit]

Claudius laughs warmly at that. "Sagramore won't struggle unless I ask him ... and then I think he likes to test the boundaries, and find them firm. I've reconciled with Sagramore," he adds, softening. "I attempted an apology, but he wouldn't have it. You know I'm manipulative by nature ... I can never be certain I haven't influenced someone unduly. But Sagramore's been quite insistent that he made his own decision, and he wants to make his own amends."

[lightbearinglord]

Wei Ying likes the same thing. He likes to know that there is nothing he can do that could convince Lan Wangji to let go of him. Possibly Lan Wangji ought to have removed his hand from Claudius' shoulder during that little conversational detour, but now he is glad he didn't. "Sir Sagramore spoke with me." He frowns, briefly, at the memory of that, Sagramore's contrition and his own inexpertly-controlled anger. "He loves you. He could have done nothing but end his association with Luo Binghe. And he was right not to allow you to apologize for wanting to be loved without compromising yourself."

[wickedwit]

"E'en so?" Claudius shakes his head, but smiles. "I think too oft on what stories can spread from a single action. Others, I'd argue, don't think oft enough on how they'll be perceived by others ... but it is a fault in me. One I'll lay on the cut-throat rumormongering at court. I fear to be misrepresented, to be misunderstood, but an thou dost understand me, I find my reputation bothers me far less. It's a virtue of thine," he says. The only request Claudius ever wrangled out of Lan Wangji was to protect Wei Wuxian's reputation here -- but in Lan Wangji's presence, with his quiet conviction and devotion, Claudius is sure Wei Wuxian rarely worries about reputation himself. It's because Lan Wangji loves so loyally, Claudius thinks. Having someone that loyal always at your side is naturally reassuring.

[lightbearinglord]

That earns Claudius another warmly fond look, not exactly a smile but something close to it. If Lan Wangji's regard for him can ease the built-up fears left behind by the sticky hands of that cutthroat court, then that is all the better. "I would prefer to say that reputations do not matter at all," he says, "but Wei Ying was cast out for his and died for a rumor he could not control." His own reputation was spotless, until he married the Yiling Patriarch. He would do it again a thousand times. "Still, even the most skilled social architect I have known could not attain complete mastery of the hearts and minds around him."

[wickedwit]

"Well, now I want to hear about the most skilled social architect you know," Claudius says, brightened by curiosity. "Would we get along, do you think? Or would we always be outmaneuvering each other?"

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji has to take a silent and pensive moment to consider the mindboggling thought exercise of Nie Huaisang and Claudius in the same room. It is occasionally easy to believe that he never knew Nie Huaisang at all -- that even the delicate, fragile boy who whined about da-ge's expectations, his unwilling childhood companion, was all a construction. That can't be true, however. More likely, Sect Leader Nie began the work of layering pieces of himself after the death of his brother, and that is when it became impossible to track which piece was real and which was the performance.

"You would like Nie Huaisang," he says, after that moment, "and I suspect he would like you, but that he would be unable to resist trying to use you for his own ends. He is known as the Headshaker¹ for his ability to pretend at useless ignorance."

¹This is a pretty loose translation of Nie Huaisang's title, 一问三不知, which more literally means "one question, three I-don't-knows."

[wickedwit]

“Ah, I know the type. I’m too proud of my own cunning to pretend at uselessness or ignorance … but my protégé at court was a Headshaker to the core. It’s the most efficient way to deal with the likes of Polonius. Look at him like you’re utterly lost, until he has to state his expectations outright, or else give up on whatever he’s asking. Nine times out of ten, he’ll give up. It’s both frustrating and fascinating to watch.” Claudius smirks and shakes his head, remembering. Idly, he crumples up the wax paper and tosses it into the waste basket, before turning to the wardrobe where he can consider what to wear. This will undoubtedly take some time.

[lightbearinglord]

That does sound precisely like Nie Huaisang, and even more precisely like Nie Huaisang cajoling Jin Guangyao into solving every minor sect squabble on his behalf -- ostensibly so that he could while away his days on frivolous pursuits, but Lan Wangji knows better, now. "It is an effective tactic." Sensing that the portion of events wherein Claudius gets dressed may be a lengthy one, Lan Wangji avails himself of a seat at the kotatsu. "Nie Huaisang accomplished his revenge with most none the wiser."

[wickedwit]

"He must be an exceptionally talented man." That is, by Claudius's standard, the best outcome for an act of vengeance: to have done it so subtly no one would ever suspect you a hand in it. Other men, he's sure, prefer the more forthright approach, but why paint a target on your own back? "Who was he avenging?"