lightbearinglord | [ open post: Lan Wangji, training ]

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[ open post: Lan Wangji, training ]

Lan Wangji is upside-down.

This is not unusual for him, although he is more used to practicing this in the company of students, his brother, or his husband.¹ Recently, however, his mind has come up against more turmoil than he would prefer, and turmoil of a variety that is unusual for him. It can't go amiss to return himself to the basics of his training.

He is in a small enough room, largely bare aside from the stick of sandalwood incense² he has set burning on a side table. Its scent drifts into the hallway, and anyone who follows it to the source may see a white-clad cultivator standing on his hands.

Well: standing on his hand. Lan Wangji needs one only to keep himself aloft, his body straight as an arrow. His hair is pulled into a ponytail so that it may pool off to one side over his neck and onto the floor rather than spilling in all directions, the long ends of his forehead ribbon tucked into the same tie and falling in the same way. He is in trousers and an undershirt of a decent heft, in deference to the fact that he is arguably in public.³

With the hand that is not currently holding him up, Lan Wangji is holding an ink brush. He is copying, from memory, the lines of a sutra.

¹Wei Ying is not good at it. Particularly not in his second body.
²This may explain it to anyone who has been wondering why he always smells faintly of sandalwood himself.
³If he does this in their quarters, Wei Ying insists it must be done with nothing on his torso at all. Lan Wangji invariably becomes distracted. Now anyone else is welcome to distract him (in a different way, ideally).

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Claudius claps from the doorway, with an entertained smirk and in a better humor than Lan Wangji saw from him. “Your skills never cease to amaze, Lan Wangji.” It’s a rare greeting without a title, rather than opening with titles and dispensing with them later. “I had some rare good news to share with you. Should I come back when you’re less occupied?”

The solemn focus clears from Lan Wangji's expression immediately, to be replaced with muted but distinctly fond relief at seeing Claudius in, obviously enough, a cheerful mood. "Claudius."

Without bothering to finish the character he had been writing, he leans his brush against his inkstone and flips back to a standing position. As he tugs his ponytail into a more convenient position for someone who is standing in the conventional fashion, he says, "Tell me."

"I've only had a little time to hone the story of it, you know," Claudius says, clearly teasing when Lan Wangji is ready to hear the news outright. "There were unexpected twists, just like in every other stage of this courtship. But I think it can properly called a courtship -- the situation between myself and Galahad," he adds, so as not to delay it further. His eyes soften when he says the name. "He came back to me." Galahad asked for it himself, asked to stay with Claudius -- he even acknowledged, and this was a grace unasked-for, that he'd harmed Claudius by letting him leave the first time. It's still an apology Claudius didn't expect.

There are several responses flickering in Lan Wangji: surprise, happiness, trepidation at the memory of his last interaction with Galahad. He might almost ask Claudius to please tell Galahad that Lan Wangji means him no harm, and never did. But that is not Claudius' burden to bear, not when there's that particular love-softened look in his eyes. It warms Lan Wangji to see it, and he's uninterested in dispelling it for a petty concern.

"Claudius," he repeats, one name to convey a multitude of sentiments. He does have one question, because he has felt Galahad's uncommon power, and because he has seen Claudius so recently crushed to such lows by this very relationship. "He will treat you well?"

"Ordinarily, the question I ask myself isn't will he treat me well but will I be able to guard myself, if necessary?" It says a lot about Claudius's relationships. "I'm growing very unguarded around Galahad, I admit. He sent me flowers -- he had a friend help choose and array them to convey a message in floriography. But the choices were ultimately his. Can you imagine that? He was so disinclined to accept help from anyone, or to make any choices for himself, yet he managed to do both."

There's a hopefulness, under his fond dismay. Claudius's first instinct was to control and manage the situation, but he could never control every angle, couldn't guard himself or even arrange help for Galahad. Galahad came to it himself, for a reason Claudius likely would've told him in the moment was unnecessary. Don't apologize to me, he would've said. But Galahad made his apology in flowers too beautiful and thoughtful not to accept. "He was sorry about how we parted ways," Claudius says, which is still a delicate elision on his part. He was sorry he didn't listen, didn't ask what I needed from him, with a righteous anger like he truly believed those were things I deserved. "I hope we'll treat each other well."

Lan Wangji nods, directing his own wariness to subside for now. If there are further troubles, he will handle them. The dissipation of heartbreak is to be savored.

"I have no guidance to offer when it comes to guarding one's heart," he says, something like wry or faintly self-deprecating about it. He is, after all, the man who has loved one person only, hopelessly and stubbornly, since he was fifteen years old. "If you are happy, I share that happiness with you."

"Happier than I believed possible. I'll still prevail on thee for counsel," Claudius says, letting even more formality slip. "'Tis the curse of being a married man with bachelors for friends. Whenever there are obstacles or advancements in the course of our own loves, we'll turn to thee, because thou hast a prize often sought but rarely found. Thou must learn to affect a distant amusement and patience." He gives Lan Wangji a droll smile to indicate what a struggle he imagines it will be for Lan Wangji to affect distance and patience.

Lan Wangji huffs a nearly-silent laugh, ducking his head for a moment as if a smile this miniscule needs hiding. "You needn't be seeking counsel to ask for my company." This is the closest he can get to saying plainly how much he enjoys the time they spend together, and how much it's come to mean to him.

"Who would have thought?" asks Claudius, because that is how he tends use his friendships. Everyone has a use, including himself, but Claudius has been aware lately of how few his uses are -- it suited him well when he was simply sharing Lan Wangji's company for the sake of it, sharing tea until his room felt less empty. "How about now, then? Hast time for company?"

In answer, Lan Wangji firstly takes a brief glance around this room -- but he can complete this work anytime. Wei Ying would insist it doesn't need to be done at all, but Lan Wangji finds it soothing to keep to his old habits and routines.

He can create new habits, however. He rarely makes straightforward invitations such as this; spending time with his brother or uncle came as a part of those old routines, unasked but expected, and he never asks before demanding, and then taking, Wei Ying's time and attention. That said, he looks back at Claudius and asks, "Will you let me serve you tea, as we take it in Gusu?"

"I'd like nothing better," Claudius says, and means it.

Again, Lan Wangji nearly smiles. Quickly but without rushing, he tidies his belongings here: he stows his paper and ink supplies in his qiankun pouch, snuffs the lingering incense with a light touch of qi, and puts on the slippers he'd worn to tread the short distance here down the hallway.

He doesn't like to go far from his quarters when he's not in full Hanguang-jun attire, so it's not a long walk as he escorts Claudius to the chamber he's been sharing with Wei Wuxian. As previously stated¹, there's a little bit of dissonance to the appearance of the fairly large room when he opens the door. It is still in the architectural style of the mansion, but most of the furniture and decor are reminiscent of the jingshi², dark cabinetry and gauzy curtains around the bed and window and a low table where the two of them take meals. Lan Wangji nods toward that table to instruct Claudius to sit.

¹In an above thread with Qi Yan, specifically.
²Here's a gif, because the typist is a little extra on the topic.

Edited 2023-10-31 20:00 (UTC)

"You've a charming space, Lan Wangji." Claudius might be extending compliments to his host during one of his diplomatic stays in another kingdom -- but this is a rarer event, spontaneous tea with a friend and a glimpse of where he spends his private time. The room suits Lan Wangji, curated to his tastes, to his rituals and habits. For some reason, Claudius feels inclined to take off his brogues before entering this room, and sets them aside before following Lan Wangji's direction.

To Lan Wangji, the room betrays a certain kind of weakness in how obvious it is that he's trying to recreate the jingshi. He really is fatally sentimental. Still, he nods in acceptance of the compliment, and then busies himself. He retrieves an inner robe (white) and an outer robe (blue) and shrugs them on, tying a sash over them crisply, then binds up his sleeves with strips of silk before he can begin.

Speaking of sentimentality, he is still mildly irritable that he's lost access to all of his own tea supplies. The mansion has provided some in their stead, but some of those were his mother's. Are his mother's -- he will return one day, Lan Wangji reminds himself. Regardless, he sets out what he has: a bamboo tea tray, a ceramic tea caddy, a small round porcelain teapot, two small cups with blue patterning against white. He has a pitcher of water brought up from one of the many kitchens, and flips a heating talisman between two fingers against its side to stir the water within to boiling.

From the tea caddy, he draws a cake of tea, which he drops into the pot. The moment he pours the hot water into the pot, the aroma hits, a fresh green herbal scent.

Claudius relaxes enough to let himself observe. For now, he doesn't try to fill the air with the chatter of his observations, and simply takes note of the tea service, judging which parts seem like necessities and which parts seem like charming sentimentalities. (He also notes and respects the clever cultivation tricks that Lan Wangji uses, heating talismans and summoned pitchers instead of misused alchemical equipment.)

Subsequently, Lan Wangji produces a pair of wooden tongs. With these, he dips each cup in the hot water and then sets them back on the tray to cool slightly, but not too much, as the tea steeps. He sits across from Claudius, releases his hair from its ponytail, and meticulously straightens his forehead ribbon, ensuring the ends are even in length where they trail behind him.

For once, he takes it upon himself to break the silence. "This is nearly the same as a tea I used to purchase from Caiyi."

"An excellent find, in this mansion," Claudius says with a smile. He's becoming more accustomed to these silences, he thinks, more accustomed to letting them break rather than searching for topics with which to break them. "Is the tea well-known there?"

"Mn. It is a town of rivers connected to Biling Lake. Several goods are sold along the water: fruits, silks, and pastries, along with the tea. Wei Ying is fond of those pastries, and of a particular restaurant in town." Lan Wangji glances pointedly toward the lowslung workstation in the corner, which is strewn haphazardly with cinnabar and half-done talismans and a crimson hair ribbon. "He doesn't care for the food at the Cloud Recesses."

"I believe you'd mentioned he doesn't like the plainer fare. He prefers chili oil and meat," Claudius recalls, fondness in his voice. "And tea and pastries in a little riverside town. Did you visit this restaurant together?"

"Several times." There is a story here -- the family banquet Lan Qiren hosted in lieu of a wedding once they returned from their elopement and their long travels afterward. Bowls of bitter herbal soup, which Wei Ying could barely drink. Lan Wangji drank them all for him, then retired to the Cloud Recesses kitchens to cook him Hunan-style dishes in the fashion of this very restaurant. Wei Ying presumed they came from that restaurant and Lan Wangji did not bother to correct him.

He won't succumb to arrogance and tell that, although it does make him nearly smile for a moment to recall Wei Ying's delight.

Instead, he plucks the teapot from its spot on the bamboo tray and leans forward to fill Claudius' cup, then back to fill his own. "The demon Crowley spoke to me," he says, and then pauses for a single beat. "Once the silencing spell I placed on him ran its course."

Claudius laughs as surely as he would at the unspoken story. "Whyever didst thou place a silencing spell on him?"

Lan Wangji lifts his eyebrows a little, a fairly clear Why do you think? in the gesture. "He speaks nonsense habitually. I tired of it."

"I like his nonsense, yet cannot fault thee for it." Because it's too entertaining an image. "Did he speak sense when he returned thee?"

There's a moment's pause as Lan Wangji picks up his cup of tea, although it's not cool enough yet to drink. The smell of it is richer and grassier after steeping, and he breathes it in. "We spoke of waiting. I told him that it is possible to wait for someone who is already, in body, beside you."

Claudius follows Lan Wangji in picking up his tea, letting it warm his hands through the little cup without a handle. He finds he has to hold it closer to his face to drink, and that lets him better appreciate the scent of it, like the bouquet of a wine. He also picks up the topic with no need for prompting, as ready for gossip as tea. "Like his Aziraphale," Claudius says appreciatively. "Thou didst well to tell him so. Perhaps now that he and Aziraphale are side by side again, Crowley will have a better view of what he's waiting for ... but opposite as they are, I think they're equals in resisting change. Hast thou met Crowley's other half yet?"

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