As Spring Will Surely Come 7/10

[silver_sun]

Part 7

The days that pass after their return home to the Cloud Recesses and his uncle’s visit feel oddly empty and disconnected. Not that those terms particularly describe the lingering sense of strangeness that has settled over him.

No, Lan Wangji can’t quite put into words what it is that has left him feeling so unsettled. There is the fact his brother remains in seclusion and that he needs to help his uncle with classes and training of the new disciples. Neither of these are new or occupy any more of his time than they did a month ago. Yet somehow it all looms larger in his mind.

The ache in his shoulder and back have been slow to resolve, or at least slow for someone with a cultivation level as high as his own. The injuries he’d received at the mill have irritated the old nerve damage caused by the discipling whip. No amount of pouring spiritual energy into it helps that old hurt. Only time and rest ease it when it flares up.

Wei Wuxian fusses over him, making sure he uses the sling to rest his arm every time he sees that it’s causing his discomfort, he puts cooling or heating poultices on it when the aches get too much to ignore and massages oils into the newly forming scars, helping them heal cleanly.

It helps physically, but it makes him feel helpless, dependent, useless.

It shouldn’t.

He knows that it shouldn’t.

Yet he can’t seem to stop those feelings from appearing. It’s like how sleeping on his front is almost guaranteed to bring him nightmares, the associations of that position so ingrained in his mind that he cannot prevent them from overtaking him.

Not that sleeping is particularly peaceful at the moment regardless of how he lays down to rest. Unsettling dreams have become frequent companions in the long dark hours of the night.

The warm weight of Wei Wuxian sleeping against him or on top of him helps once he has woken, helps him come back to himself and anchor him there in the present. Not that Lan Wangji wants to wake him; he knows that his husband has his own nightmares, terrible terrifying things that can leave him shaking and sobbing and barely able to catch his breath.

Lan Wangji’s nightmares have always been quiet things. He’ll wake cold sweat on his face mixing with silent tears, his heart racing, while his limbs feel leaden and uncooperative.

Tonight is no exception.

Lingering shreds of fear and images of endless, frozen oceans, things moving in the dark, things that are all claws and teeth and grasping limbs, that will shred his flesh and drag him down into the icy depths.

Wei Wuxian shifts against him, pressing sleepy uncoordinated kisses to his chest, before mumbling, “No.” He clings limpet-like, legs hooked around Lan Wangji’s own. “It’s not morning.”

It isn’t, not for at least an hour, even by Lan standards. At four in the morning just a few days before the Midwinter Festival the world outside is cold and dark and impossibly still.

Lan Wangji strokes his hair, hoping Wei Wuxian is too deeply asleep to feel how it trembles. He wonders if it is selfish to do this, to risk waking him and causing him worry. Yet it helps in a way that not much else does.

Once, during those long years when Wei Wuxain had been gone, he would have slipped from the house, found the rabbits and stroked their soft fur until he felt himself calm down and come back to himself.

There is no chance of sleeping again. Not now. He needs to wake in less than an hour anyway, he tells himself. Waking a little early isn’t a hardship. He can use that time to be useful. He can get tasks out of the way so he can spend more of the day with Wei Wuxian.

Slipping from the bed, he makes sure that the blankets are tucked around Wei Wuxian, keeping the early morning chill from him. Then quietly, he washes and dresses for the day ahead.

Meditation and exercise are next. Not wanting to wake Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji steps out of the wooden terrace at the side of their home.

Around him the frosted trees glint faintly in the starlight, the moon having already set and sunrise too distant yet to have even started to brighten the horizon.

There is a kind of peace in an early morning under snow that can be found at no other time. The world is soft and still, and he can feel the last of the tensions from the unsettling dreams fade away.

Sitting down, he closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing, on the way his core fills with warm, bright energy and the way it flows out along his meridians.

It is still dark when Lan Wangji finishes, although there are less stars and the faintest hint of brightness in the Eastern sky.

His shoulder aches slightly from the cold and stillness. There is no point in pushing energy to it however, not unless he wants to risk a worse flare of pain in the nerves damaged by the discipline whip. Instead, he stretches it, trying to ease the tightness in the muscles.

It helps, although doesn’t remove the discomfort entirely.

Reluctantly he puts on the sling, hoping that giving it support now will make the day when it is not required come sooner.

Finally makes breakfast for Wei Wuxian, leaving it covered on a tray on the table, then sets out to see his brother.

---

The paths down to Lan Xichen’s secluded residence are half hidden with snow, and it is with some concern that Lan Wangji notices that the basket of supplies that is left daily for him has not been collected this morning.

It is still early. Only shortly after six. He reasons with himself. It is far earlier than he would usually visit, so perhaps it is just that his brother isn’t hasn’t felt the need to go outside yet.

Picking it up, he approaches the building, relieved to see a thin curl of smoke showing that at least the brazier has been lit against the winter’s chill.

Placing the basket down at his feet, Lan Wangji knocks on the door and waits to be let inside.

Nerves twist and crawl as they always do in this moment: The fear that the door will not open and that he will be left waiting for someone who will never again answer is something that he cannot prevent.

Snow falls lightly, settling on his hair, while all around him there is nothing but the hush of woodland in winter. The cold seeps in through his clothes, making his shoulder ache as the muscles contract.

Lan Wangji had considered not wearing the sling for the visit in case it causes his brother to worry. Yet going there and being in pain the whole time will not help. His brother has always been able to read him in a way that few others have ever managed and he knows that he will not be able to keep it a secret from him. There is nothing to be gained from telling him about the severity of the situation in which the injury occurred, so only the barest facts will be provided.

Or they will be if his brother opens the door and lets him in.

He knocks again and waits.

Still there is nothing. No sound. No movement. No sign that his brother is awake or even at home for that matter. Yet where else would he be?

He is considering opening the door and walking in, when it slowly opens.

Lan Xichen looks ill. There is no other word for it in Lan Wangji’s opinion. While the clothes he has chosen are more suited to a summer day than a chill winter’s morning. He looks tired and worn, even more so than he had on the previous visit.

He blinks, looks dazed as he takes in Lan Wangji’s somewhat snow covered appearance. “I was sleeping. I think I was just…” he trails off. “I didn’t know you would come. I didn’t expect anyone.”

“It is my day to visit. I could not come last time.”

“Last time? When was…” Lan Xichen stops and sighs, and tries to wave away concern. “You don’t have to do this. You must have better things to do. More important ones.”

“I do not,” Lan Wangji replies, picking up the basket again. “Family is important.”

There is a moment of hesitation, then he steps aside, allowing his brother into his home. Then, seeming to see the sling for the first time, he asks, “What happened to your arm? Did you break it?”

“It is strained,” Lan Wangji replies, trying to deflect the concern, not wishing to add to his brother’s worries. “Wei Ying and I dealt with a haunting. I injured my shoulder, but it is healing well.”

Lan Xichen nods, dull eyed once more, and Lan Wangji wonders if the response would have been the same regardless of what he’d said. It is disturbing to see his brother like this, sliding back once more in the pit of grief and depression that had filled much of the first year after the events at the Guanyin Temple. Worse still is not knowing how to help him.

So he does what he can for now. He makes them tea and sets out the food that he has brought in, while Lan Xichen sits and does, as far as he can tell, nothing. There’s no interest in anything around him, no attempt at conversation, not a sign that he is aware of anything, even the passage of time.

If the visit two weeks before had been unsettling this one is far worse. Was this why his uncle had been so worried when he’d come to see him? Had he witnessed him in such a state?

“Have you decided about Mid Winter?” Lan Wangji asks, once he had successfully prompted his brother into drinking some of the tea. “Uncle is amenable to us all meeting here, including Wei Ying, so you do not have to travel.”

“I’ve told him no.”

The idea of his brother refusing their uncle’s compromise; something that Lan Qiren rarely did for anyone, feels unspeakable wrong. Although he holds little hope of it being correct, Lan Wangji asks, “So you will come to us?”

“I’m sorry.” Lan Xichen doesn’t raise his head. “It would be better if you don’t bother with me. Just forget I’m here.”

Lan Wangji’s heart sinks, “I cannot.”

Lan Xichen pulls back, hands hidden down at his sides where they cannot be reached, less his brother reaches across the table to him. “I chose seclusion, yet you and uncle come here every few days. Why can’t you let me do this properly? Am I so useless in your eyes now? Do you believe I will fail even this?”

“We do not.” It is not failing which gives both him and Lan Qiren disturbed nights, it is what they fear they might find if they were to leave Lan Xichen truly alone for long periods of time.

“Then leave me be.” Getting up, Lan Xichen walks away from him, retreating to the back of the room. Finally he turns his back on him and looks out of the window. “I can’t do this any more, Wangji.”

“Do not speak this way.” If going down on his knees and begging would work, Lan Wangji knows that he would do it.

It will not.

In the silence hanging between them, confirms it.

“I am not asking for forever.” Lan Xichen still doesn’t turn around. “A month. Leave me for that long. Allow me that.”

It does nothing to assuage his fears. Worse, the lingering nightmare image of kneeling in front of a door that will never open, fills his vision. There was snow then too. Snow falling on blue gentians. He feels dizzy with it.

“Wangji, it’s not the same. This is my choice. I need to do this. I need to find who I am now, who I want to be. I can’t do that if you keep making be who I was.”

Even now his brother knows him and his fears far too well. It’s difficult, but Lan Wangji forces his voice to stay neutral as he replies, “I will return in a month, as you wish. ”

“Tell uncle for me,” Lan Xichen says, sounding weary. “Tell him…” He stops, sighing slowly and shaking his head. “It won’t be forever.”

The sick feeling doesn’t abate, but he replies, “I will do as you ask.”

Lan Wangji is halfway back to the Jingshi, snow falling lightly about him, when he feels himself start to shake. Everything that he’d managed to suppress in front of his brother boiling over like an unwatched pot on the fire.

He is going to have to tell his uncle that them being together as a family for Mid Winter will not be happening this year either. He will have to tell Sizhui that he will not be able to see his uncle yet, because he will be refusing all visitors. Not that he wants Sizhui to have to see him as he had been today.

He has Wei Ying, he tells himself, having him there, being able to share his life with him, should be all he needs to be happy. And it does make him happy, he cannot remember a time when he was so content, when his days were filled with so much joy.

Yet he wants more.

He wants his brother back. He wants to speak with him as he once had, to practise music together, to discuss the progress the juniors are making in their studies. He wants to see a smile on his brother’s face again and know that he has some happiness in his life, he wants to have him gently tease him about things as he had when they were growing up.

It feels selfish to want this. He is living with the love of his life, in the place he grew up, with his family all around him. How can he want more than this? How can he even speak of it when Wei Wuxian has no family left of his own?

His throat aches and his eyes burn, but he cannot allow himself to weep. Tears are useless things that will change nothing, he tells himself. He will not feel better for shedding them and if he is seen he will cause worry to others.

It takes longer than he would like for his hands to grow steady, for his face to be able to maintain the perfectly schooled indifference that has been his protection for so many years.

Finally he brushes the snow from his clothes and goes to inform his uncle.

---

Telling his uncle goes as well as expected. First there had been annoyance that he’d not managed to dissuade Lan Xichen from such a course of action, followed by concern, and finally Lan Qiren stating that he will not accept it until he is told by him in person. He will visit Lan Xichen in two days time as had been previously planned and attempt to get him to change his mind.

Unsettled and powerless to say anything that will change either of their minds, Lan Wangji resigns himself to the fact that there is no more that he can do. He holds little hope that his uncle will be able to change his brother’s mind. In his own quiet way Lan Xichen is every bit as stubborn as Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren are. All he can do is bear the worry as best he can and hope that he has not made the wrong choice in allowing Lan Xichen complete solitude.

So Lan Wangji teaches more classes allowing his uncle time to plan what was to be done for the Mid Winter Festival. He speaks to one of the disciples who has an interest in transcribing and binding manuscripts for the library, then he goes to speak with one of the senior disciples who has has received a request from a distant family member to send their son to the Cloud Recesses to train, but isn’t certain if they should be treated as a guest disciple or not as his aunt had married out of Gusu Lan, and into a minor sect.

Finally he returns to the Jingshi for lunch with Wei Wuxian.

Or at least he would, were it not empty when he arrives.

It’s not unusual for Wei Wuxian to go out, whether it is to explore, use the library, to speak with Sizhui or check that Little Apple is happy and well fed. Usually however there is a note. Something to let Lan Wangji know where he is and that he won’t be long or that he won’t be back until evening.

Today there is nothing. Just the empty tray from breakfast.

It is ridiculous to worry, Lan Wangji tells himself. No doubt Wei Wuxian had only gone out earlier for a short time, not thinking he needed to leave a note, then got distracted.

It has happened before. The first time barely a few weeks after they had started living at the Cloud Recesses again after their elopement he had not been able to find Wei Wuxian anywhere, nor did anyone claim to have seen him. He’d been almost frantic with worry by the time he’d found him in the library pavilion, surrounded by books about plants and gardens, fast asleep in the patch of sunlight.

The flourishing garden around the Jingshi is testament to his persistence and hard work.

All the same it feels disheartening to eat lunch alone. He does so because it is necessary, but he can find little enjoyment in it, so makes it as brief as possible, before turning his attention to reading the pile of letters that his uncle has asked him to deal with.

They are primarily reports and requests for assistance from people and minor sects located in Gusu. Some relate to incidents that might relate to a creature or spirit being present, but a great number of them are for things that relate to the everyday running of the sect. Repairs to a bridge damaged by an autumn storm, replies & enquiries from merchants supply things as varied as ink, lamp oil and salt. While a few are requests to study in the Cloud Recesses, either for a short time or to become an out disciple.

Replying to the letters proves to be slower than Lan Wangji would like, his shoulder cramping after he has been writing for more than a few minutes at a time.

It is evening before Wei Wuxian finally returns, cold, tired and snow covered, but cheerful as he places Subian and a bag of books down on the table.

Any worries which Lan Wangji had about where he’d had been ease, although do not disappear entirely. He is aware that Wei Wuxian has, since their return from Luhe, started to talk about training more frequently and look into how the Lan musical cultivation method could be played on the dizi, rather than their usual choices of qin and xiao.

It is a productive use of time and one that does not go against any of the rules of the sect. All the same, Lan Wangji knows that this sudden drive has been caused by what Wei Wuxian sees as his inability to help when needed most. If it helps him deal with what had been a difficult time for them both, he is more than happy to let him train and learn in whatever way he choses.

---

By the time Dongzhi arrives Lan Wangji no longer needs the sling to rest his arm. Perhaps that isn’t strictly true, as it does still give him the occasional twinge of pain, but it isn’t severe enough he decides to warrant still wearing it.

Not wearing it feels like progress. It is something good to cling to when other sources of worry, such as his brother’s refusal to see anyone or Wei Wuxian’s increasingly frequent absences from their home, play on his mind.

In contrast to the bright, crisp snowy days that have filled the past week, the morning of Dongzhi dawns bitterly cold and grey with freezing fog.

Although it should be a joyful time when they should all be together, the sombre weather seems to match Lan Wangji’s mood. Even when they had been children, both he and Lan Xichen, they had been taken to see their parents, then it had been a communal meal with the sect, then finally they had spent time with their uncle, playing music and enjoying the rare treat of sweets.

Then later in the long hard years when Wei Wuxian had been gone and Lan Wangji had felt like he was slowly drowning in grief and pain, they had still come together as a family.

That he can find less hope for the future now than in those dark days worries him. Is it his lack of belief in his brother’s choices or is it the subconscious acknowledgement that they have already had their last times together as a family, and this some kind of prescient grief.

In two weeks he will see his brother again. In two weeks he will know if Lan Xichen withdrawing from them all has helped him or not. It is, as his brother has said, not forever.

So Dongzhi passes at the Cloud Recesses as it has always done, first as a communal event and then as a family occasion.

For the first time since Wei Wuxian has started to live there they all meet in the Jingshi. Himself, Wei Wuxian, Lan Sizhui and Lan Qiren.

It is…not awful, Lan Wangji decides. It isn’t easy, but it is not a disaster. Wei Wuxian is quieter than usual, clearly not wanting to give Lan Qiren a reason to complain, while Sizhui talks to them both, trying his best to make sure that no one feels left out.

Over everything looms one carefully avoided topic: Lan Xichen’s absence.

Although Lan Wangji’s concern had been whether there would be some ill timed comment between Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren moment that had hurt the most had been when Sizhui had looked at how many places had been set at the table, and said quietly, “He really isn’t coming, is he?”

During his first years at the Cloud Recesses Sizhui had spent more time with Lan Xichen than he had with Lan Wangji, who had often been too ill to take care of himself, never mind a young child. So it is to be expected that Sizhui would feel his absence keenly.

Once his uncle has left and Suzhui has gone to join Lan Jingyi and other juniors of his own age, Lan Wangji brings out the jars of wine he has brought and hidden to treat Wei Wuxian.

It feels like far too long since they have had time to do this, to relax by themselves, with no thought for work or responsibility for the evening.

He watches Wei Wuxian drink, cheeks flushed, eyes bright and full of love when he looks at him. It is more than he had ever hoped for or for the longest time ever thought could be possible. It feels impossible sometimes that he has been given this chance at happiness.

---

After Dongzhi the days start to lengthen, but the grip of winter only seems to intensify with bitter frosts and snow storms becoming more frequent.

There seems a symmetry in it, mirroring his own life.

As, while his injuries heal like the lengthening days, concern over his family and other parts of his life start to bite like the deepening cold.

Despite the unrelenting bitter winter weather, Lan Wangji has found that Wei Wuxian is often absent from the Jingshi when he returns from teaching classes or overseeing other work that needs to be done.

There was a time when jealousy about who Wei Wuxian was spending his time with would have wound itself about him, a serpent with endless crushing coils and poisoned fangs. Four years of marriage has eased that fear. From the moment in the Guanyin temple when they had confessed their love for each other to the world and in every moment after he can no longer believe that Wei Wuxian heart would ever belong to another.

Yet this doesn’t mean that his repeated absences aren't concerning or that the more often it happens the worse his fears about why it is happening become. Getting into danger while trying to help someone, working on things that were forbidden within the Cloud Recesses or within the cultivation world in general or even just drinking too much all had the possibility to be real.

Yet asking Wei Wuxian to remain home all the time, to stay there alone, while he has to spend more and more dealing with more classes and sect matters, just so he knows where he is, is unfair. Worse still are the thoughts that come with even having considered it, those that whisper ‘you are like your father after all.’

So Lan Wangji does his best to swallow his fears, determined that he will never allow Wei Wuxian to feel trapped or like a prisoner in their relationship.

Part 8 - https://silver-sun.dreamwidth.org/273816.html#cutid1