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[His gaze darts away and he blinks his eyes rapidly, forcing himself to take deep calming breaths. Of course he'd known it was a long shot. He'd said his goodbyes to her long ago. For a long time Wei Wuxian says nothing, busying himself taking another sip of tea and looking anywhere but at Huaisang's face, lest he catch a glimpse of the devastation that he's quickly tucking away.

The rest of the information sinks in slowly and his fingers clench around the tea cup.

Ah, that makes sense. Like the soul sacrifice summons. If they thought they could use him, then they would keep him. He closes his eyes, exhaling, and opens them again.]

Did I free him? Did someone? [It is too soon to rejoice that his friend yet lives. Not when he doesn't know if Wen Ning has become nothing more than a slave to the whims of the Jin and someone like Xue Yang.]

[ huaisang takes a moment to drink his tea, eyes downcast, to give his friend time to process it all — or, at the very least, not crumble under the weight of the news. ]

You did. You made sure of it. He's alive and well, and doing what he wants to be doing, now. He didn't die because of you, Wei-xiong, and now he's free because of you.

There are many people alive today who owe a lot to you.

[The weight in his chest lightens and he finally allows himself to think about what that means. Wen Ning lived. For terrible reasons perhaps, but he lives now, free and of his own accord. He lives and that means a-Yuan must know. He must finally be getting the chance to know his cousin.

He huffs out a breath of air, amusement touching the edges of the sound.]

I don't know about all of that, but if Wen Ning lives, then I'm glad. [And he knows with every fiber of his being that if Wen Qing had to choose between them, she always would have chosen her beloved little brother. If Wei Wuxian must come back, then at least he can continue her work in looking after him.]

You weren't kidding when you said this might take a while. [Because he knows there is more to cover still, even with two life changing revelations already having been uncovered.]

I should probably make us more tea.

[ it's said with a sigh — and as he sets another pot of water to boil, he starts to speak, slow and measured. ]

When I realised what had happened to Da-ge, I started to think, what if he wasn't the only one? I'd uncovered San-ge's method: his murders never leave doubt. Everyone knows the Nie are doomed to qi deviate, strong warriors faster than others, even if they don't know why. Of course Da-ge would qi deviate. Of course it was going to happen. Why would anyone find it suspicious that it happened so fast, in a time of peace?

[ huaisang's eyes are fixed ahead, looking at something only he can see — perhaps the moment of his brother's death, or perhaps the intricate machinations of one jin guangyao he'd become so familiar with. ]

So I started looking at everything that had happened. Pride was always San-ge's downfall — he didn't think anyone else was as smart as him. But once I knew what to look for, it was easy. Jin Guangshan — why would anyone think twice of an old man dying of a failing heart, in the middle of such activities? Of course it was going to happen. Never mind this was a great sect leader, a cultivator. And even little A-Song... how could anyone accuse him of murdering his own son? That was unthinkable.

[ the water, some of it already hot, reaches the perfect temperature for green tea, and huaisang moves the pot away, sets in tea leaves to steep. ]

San-ge wanted to rise to the very top, to prove that he was not just as good as everyone else, but better. Da-ge never trusted him; he couldn't have someone leading one of the great sects who would always be against him. So he had to go. Jin Guangshan had to go, not just because of all the slights against him, but because he wanted to lead the sect.

[ slowly, huaisang looks up from the tea pot, right at wei wuxian. ]

Can you see where I'm going with this?

[Wei Wuxian is a bright man, but it still takes him a long while to actually see where Huaisang is going with it, and when he does, he shakes his head immediately, ignoring the way his stomach tightens uncomfortably. Any questions he had about Jin Guangyao—his own son?—fade to white noise in lieu of it.]

I took on the mantle of demonic cultivator. I took the Wen away to the Burial mounds. I created the Yin Tiger Tally. I killed Jin Zixuan and his cousin. [a man whose name he can't recall even now.]

And I went to Nightless City that night and made my choices there too. [I jumped, he doesn't say, though the words are on the tip of his tongue. I killed Shijie. There is a memory he has of that night that he has refused to consider even though it remains in his mind, a blot on an otherwise pristine page. There is a sound he can't erase from his memory, the high pitched trilling of a flute.

Hallucination, he reminds himself. Don't think of it.]

What you're suggesting isn't possible.

And I didn't...[He falters, shaking his head.] I didn't do anything to him. I wasn't in his way.

No, but Jin Zixuan was.

[ of course jin guangyao saw his chance — a way to be rid of the brother he never wanted, never cared for, but always, always envied. ]

It was the perfect plan, really. San-ge wasn't wrong to have pride in his intellect. Who would believe you hadn't really lost control? You were dangerous and unstable. Even if you'd heard the other flute... even if you tried to speak out about it, who would believe you? There were no other demonic cultivators like you. No one else could do the same thing. [ he shakes his head. ] You were the perfect scapegoat. When all the bad things that happened were already laid at your feet, what was one more thing?

[ he pauses, then grimaces. ] I'm sorry, Wei-xiong. It shouldn't have taken me so long to realise that it was never really your fault. But you never once lost control of Wen Ning before, did you? Did you even think it was possible, until that moment?

[ he doesn't give him time to answer. ] You didn't, because it wasn't. Not until someone else took control of him instead, and made him kill Jin Zixuan.

San-ge didn't care if you'd never done anything to him. You just happened to be... convenient.

[ just like mo xuanyu was, he thinks, unbidden. convenient.

sometimes, he thinks he can hear san-ge laughing at him; he'd rid the world of jin guangyao, and created someone just like him in his place. ]

[He pushes away from the table so fast that he nearly knocks his tea over, jumping to his feet and turning to begin pacing the room without a word. He'd had his suspicions about some of what Nie Huaisang had to tell him, but never in a million years had he considered this. His thoughts are in disarray, and it feels like he's being dismantled from his foundation up.

He stops in his pacing and stares at the wall in front of him, eyes unseeing.

The thing is, it was his fault. It was supposed to be his fault. It had to be his fault. Because if it wasn't then...then what?

The question echoes in his mind.

If it wasn't then what? Then Shijie didn't have to die? Then he could have saved Jin Zixuan if he'd just been paying attention, if he's been listening, if he'd been sharper and faster and better. He could have saved Jin Zixuan and the Dafan Wen didn't have to die. He didn't have to be there at Nightless City that day. He didn't have to watch Shijie die in Jiang Cheng's arms or see his brother look at him with pure loathing in his eyes.

If it wasn't his fault, then what was it all for? What was the point of any of it?

He turns to face Huaisang again, taking a few steps forward back to the table and not quite making it there before sinking to his knees. He doesn't cry. What's the point? He closes his eyes, head tilted up towards the ceiling, and he exhales softly before tilting his head back down and raising a hand to cover his face. His second hand joins the first and then he starts to laugh.

It isn't hysterical, the laughter soft and unhurried, but there's an edge to it that speaks to something horribly desparate.]

Sorry Nie-xiong, I need a minute.

I'm sorry, Wei-xiong. It's not fair.

[ but then, nothing that jin guangyao had done had been so. all of them had gone through so much — for nothing but the ambitions of a man scorned by his father and turned into something terrible.

instead of speaking, he busies himself with the teapot, pouring them both more tea, leaving the cup in front of wei wuxian, sitting back and drinking his own in silence.

after five minutes have passed, he says, quietly, ]

Don't blame yourself for not having seen it. No one did, until it was too late. Even me.

[ and — though it sounds arrogant — his mind was the only one in the cultivation world sharp enough to match san-ge. ]

[He doesn't know if that's why it hurts. If he hadn't seen it but no one else had either, should it really be so heavy a burden? Should it feel like this? He shakes his head, wordless, and drops his hands. His eyes are open and dry, but there is an emptiness behind them that wasn't there before.]

All of this...[He starts and lets himself trail off. He's quiet for another minute before he picks up again.] All of this for one man.

Thousands dead. Your brother. My Shijie.

All of it.

[It's crushing.

There is no relief, no revelation of innocence. There is only the knowledge that none of it had to happen. That all of that suffering was at one man's whim. He doesn't even feel anger, there is simply nothing. Wei Wuxian has lived so long with this yoke that the thought of peeling it away feels like carving out a piece of his own flesh, and there is only so much of his body that he has left to give.]

I should hate him. [He mumbles.] Shouldn't I?

Would it make you feel better?

[ no — he doubts anything would. to have thought that he was deserving of all the suffering must have been a way to cope with it all; now that it's gone, what is left? ]

I don't think it helps, but I believe he never meant for Lady Jiang to die. [ an unfortunate accident — she should never have left the jinlintai.

he sighs. ]

I also believe some of the blame lays at Jin Guangshan's feet. I was never able to find out just how much of it — everything that happened to the Wen, certainly, as well as Jin Zixun confronting you over the curse. Perhaps even the idea that Da-ge should be killed... sometimes, I wonder what kind of a man San-ge would have been, if he'd never sought for the approval of his father. Or if his father had been a better man.

[ he pauses, taking out his fan, flipping it open as if reflexively. ]

I hated him, you know. More than anyone or anything. But he was my brother, who helped me, cared for me, lied for me. [ his fan is decorated with the perfect image of the unclean realm, seeming almost alive as the fan moves back and forth. ] In the end, I think there were two people San-ge actually cared about, still. Er-ge, of course... and me. He was killed by Er-ge, knowing it was me who'd been behind his downfall.

He died as nothing. He died with nothing. If you do feel hate for him, just know he died having lost everything that ever mattered to him.

[It's a tale so tragic, he isn't sure his heart can take the weight of it. Tragic for Huaisang, tragic for Zewu-jun, tragic for the Wen and Shijie. Even tragic for Jin Guangyao himself. Later, he thinks, when he has had time to tuck the broken pieces of this tragedy away into the places he will keep them, he will return to Huaisang. To his role in this tragedy and the way it has left its scars on his friend.

He isn't unaware of the pieces Huaisang is laying at his feet either. Of the mess and tangle of love, friendship, and betrayal in which Huaisang appears so prominent.

Maybe if he was newly resurrected after sixteen years and he learned of this, he would feel differently about his friend, the stranger who conducted things so coldly from the dark. But he is not newly resurrected. He has lived alongside Huaisang for two years now, watching him slowly remove the masks he had forged in all that time. Learning about the sides of him that Huaisang has slowly allowed him to see. Seeing how he cared for Gwen and others aboard the Ximilia.

If Jin Guangyao was as clever as Huaisang says, isn't the dark the only place he could have remained to survive?

This is not the boyhood friendship they had shared in late nights of self-discovery and teen rebellion. They are grown now, aged by war and pain and darkness burrowing into their hearts. Who would he be if he turned away from Huaisang's darkness now? Who would he be but a cruel hypocrite?

(So he does see it. He does. And he knows there is a cruelty to Jin Guangyao's end that the Huaisang he left behind wouldn't have been capable of. But it only makes his heart ache for all of them.)]

I never told you what my regret was.

[ it's more than he's ever before spoken on the subject, with anyone — even xichen-ge, who knew it all. but perhaps that was the reason; they were both too close to what had happened. every time they stood to speak, the ghosts of their brothers stood by them, unseen but very much felt, two shadows they could never banish.

it's easier, to speak of it all to someone to whom jin guangyao had been — nothing. ]

You didn't, [ comes his answer, somewhat relieved to be changing subjects, if only slightly. ]

I first thought it might be the massacre of Lotus Pier, but we'd have lost the war then [ said with absolute nonchalance, like it's an obvious conclusion to make, ] so it couldn't be... so I always assumed it was either what happened to the Dafan Wen, or Lady Jiang.

[We'd have lost the war then, Huaisang says, and this time when Wei Wuxian laughs it is a wet choking sound. He doesn't abandon himself to the grief that tries to drag him under, but it escapes just for one moment in that sound. It's a relief, he thinks, to finally be acknowledged. To know that someone understands that all of his sacrifices were worth it at least for one bright and shining moment. That he did what he was supposed to do with it.

He doesn't ask how Huaisang knows about that sacrifice. They'll get there, he's sure.

After another moment of silence, he continues.]

Even with the orb's power, I couldn't find a way to save everyone. There is no one moment that exists to set everything right.

But I thought there was one moment that was...the closest. The best I could do.

I thought, if I just let Jin Zixuan's cousin kill me that day at Qiongqi Pass and his stupid curse didn't vanish...even if he found another reason to blame me, Jin Zixuan would live. There would be no battle at Nightless city. Shijie would be safe. My brother would only hate me as much as he did at that time and not the way he did at the end.

And if I was very lucky, Lan Zhan could make it to the Dafan Wen before the rest. [It guaranteed Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli's lives if nothing else, or at least he'd believed as much. The Dafan Wen were not guaranteed but it was the best he could do.

And he hadn't known then that a-Yuan survived, because if he had, his best wouldn't have been enough. He never would have risked a-Yuan.]

I gave it up months ago. That's a good thing of course, as I'm sure you understand as I do now. It wouldn't have worked. I didn't know that it was never going to work.

I didn't know anything.

Only you, Wei-xiong, only you'd come here and decide to go back just so you could die a little earlier.

[ it should make him sad, his friend's absolute disregard for his own life... but it just makes him angry at the world that made him this way. at everyone who made him think his life was somehow less.

but he's right, of course — it wouldn't have worked. ]

The only thing that will save Jin Zixuan is if San-ge dies before he does.

[ with a snap, the fan in his hand closes. ] My regret... I'm going to go far back in time to save Da-ge. I can ask to go back far enough to save Jin Zixuan. I don't know if I can do anything about the Dafan Wen... but Da-ge understands justice. If I bring him to see that there's really no threat, that they were unfairly treated by the Jin —

Wei-xiong, do you think the Wen would agree to live in Qinghe?

[There is a long moment in which Wei Wuxian simply stares at Huaisang, and then he rises, steps over to Huaisang's side of the table, and kneels again. When he's knelt in front of his friend he leans forward and embraces him, full bodied and with strength.

Do you think the Wen would agree to live in Qinghe?

Whether it works or not, whether Nie Mingjue listens, right here in this moment, it doesn't matter. Wei Wuxian fought for them alone every step of the way. Even those who agreed, who saw the injustice—Jiang Cheng, Lan Wangji—even they had their hands tied and could do nothing.

He remembers the night Wen Ning and Wen Qing had gone to their deaths (or apparent deaths in Wen Ning's case he supposes) and how he'd wept and begged for help, for someone to offer a hand. He remembers how alone and afraid he'd been. He remembers wishing desperately for a single person to step in and see what he saw, to offer help or guidance. (It hadn't come then.)]

Nie Huaisang, [He says, not letting go] I'm so lucky that you're my friend. No one in the whole world is luckier than me.

Edited 2024-01-06 23:04 (UTC)

[ in that split-second, huaisang very nearly falls back, so taken aback that he forgets to brace himself for impact — and then, hesitantly, carefully, he hugs wei wuxian back. when is the last time he has embraced someone, genuinely? he doesn't know. his eyes feel like someone has sprinkled some of his friend's preferred spice into them, and he has to look up, swallow heavily, blink the burning sensation away from his eyes.

no, he wants to say, no you're not. a real friend would have looked further than the borders of his own sect and seen the situation his friend was in. a real friend would have done something, back then. it's a needle in his heart, the way he knows that jiang-xiong couldn't do anything, his sect so newly weakened; lan wangji couldn't do anything, his sect too dependent on the jin's help and too enamored with their own rules to see that not everything in life can be governed by a set of instructions to follow.

the nie, however. the nie had emerged from the war — if not unscathed, at least victorious. with influence second only to the jin. with the most righteous, unyielding man heading the sect — when da-ge knew something to be right, he would do it, push for it, regardless of anything. regardless of any opposition.

and there had never, never, been anything that huaisang had asked for and truly meant that da-ge hadn't agreed to give him.

he breathes out, welcomes the wave of grief as he thinks of his brother like an old friend — the pain is a part of him now, familiar as the shape of the braids he puts in his hair every day. he lets it ebb, pulls himself to the surface and thinks, i wasn't a very good friend to him, then. but i can be, now. ]

I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, then, [ he says instead, quiet and honest. honesty doesn't come to him easily; but if anyone deserves it, wei wuxian does. ]

[You couldn't have been he almost says, and then it doesn't matter. There was a time even after his arrival on the Ximilia when he would have allowed the phrases to slip carelessly from his lips. Nie Huaisang couldn't have done much to sway the events, not back then. And it's true that it doesn't matter to him in so much as he holds no grudge over it and finds his friend faultless in this. He wants to tell him it's nothing to worry about, that it's not even something worth mentioning.

But he's been friends with Uchiha Itachi for too long now for the dismissive words that had once come so easily to spill out of him without thought.

There is power in accountability no matter whether he feels his friend owes it, and there is insult in denying it. Itachi, he thinks, would hate both of those responses. No, that isn't right, not hate. He'd see through them. It's a pain, really. It used to be so easy to minimize his own struggles but now even when the words sit ready at his tongue, he bites them back and thinks about their true meaning.

Now he knows that it isn't affection to wave away Huaisang's apology, but the need to deflect even this small kindness at his expense, to resist even the acknowledgement that one of his loved ones might have done just a little better by him. It makes his insides squirm.

It's a tedious self-awareness and he doesn't like it.

Still, he bites the words back, pulling away and allowing one hand to linger on Huaisang's shoulder.]

I forgive you. [The words are heavy and he hates them, but he says it.]

Whatever happened there, you are and will remain my true friend, Nie Huaisang.

[ the surprise of the answer blows his eyes wide, for the fraction of a second, before he wrestles his expression under control — he's not needed to hide, here, hasn't wanted to hide. but for this, he believes it is for the best: that he is surprised by wei wuxian's words, the fact that his apology isn't waved away with ease, buried under uncomfortable laughter and dismissive words... he wants to smile, because his friend has grown from the person he once was, into someone who may not yet be comfortable accepting that he might, actually, deserve things in life, but is on the way there —

he wants to smile, and so he does, hiding it behind his fan.

and then, when the hand on his shoulder withdraws, he snaps his fan shut and bows. ]

You too, Wei Wuxian. I'm glad to be able to call you my friend.

[In his time here aboard the Ximilia, Wei Wuxian has been fortunate to meet and grow to care about a number of people from different worlds and universes. Nie Huaisang though, is different. Nie Huaisang is from the same corner of the universe as him, the same world, and the same little piece of it. He has of course always been fond of Nie Huaisang, but what he feels for him now—and especially in this moment—is so much more than the boyhood friendship they'd once had.

He does not know if it's the kind of friendship they'll have again—that Huaisang will have again with whatever version of Wei Wuxian emerges after Huaisang's regret is fulfilled. He hopes that they'll find their way to this place again. He wouldn't want other Nie Huaisangs and Wei Wuxians to miss out on it.]

You know, [he smiles and this time it has some spark to it with just the slightest hint of mischief] if the two of us ever set our mind to something together, the world wouldn't stand a chance. [And for all that he's realizing they could do a lot of damage together, for the moment all that matters is that they could likely do a lot of good. The sects wouldn't know what hit them.]

Let's be friends again in the future, okay? I want you by my side. [Memory or no, different versions of themselves or no. Even if it takes another life to have it, he's determined. After a contemplative silence, he speaks again, voice gone soft.]

I was planning to stay here. I don't know what it'll mean now if I do. Do you think...will it mess things up? If I'm supposed to come back?

[It occurs to him very suddenly that even with this revelation and knowing he could return, that he could be reunited with Lan Zhan and live out his days in some semblance of peace, he doesn't want it. He doesn't want any of it. He wants to stay with Itachi. He wants to laugh with Viveca and play music with Degar. He wants to remains with those of his Ximilia family who will stay. Does that make him terrible, he wonders?]

[ let's be friends again, wei wuxian says, and huaisang feels nothing but grateful — maybe they will never have this again, the kind of friendship they've been able to build here... but that's okay. he knows it's possible, now. and whatever they will have in the future, it'll be just as good, even if it's different. ]

I'd be honoured, [ he says, sincere, fighting the urge to bow again.

as his friend continues, huaisang falls silent; it isn't a surprise, exactly, hearing what he means to do... because he knows wei wuxian, after all. and, he thinks, yes, it might mess things up, on whatever timeline they have created —

but then again, huaisang himself will never return to his own, original one. they've both branched timelines, already, for better or for worse. and besides — ]

You're supposed to do what you want to do, Wei-xiong. That timeline... it'll just have to do without you. Maybe it will mess things up. Maybe not. But it's no longer your concern.

Supposed to do...[He smiles wryly, shaking his head.] I don't know if I believe that, but I know I want to stay. The life I've made here is—[He cuts himself off and glances away, one finger rising to scratch at the side of his nose.]

Ah, well. I'd meant to tell you anyway and it will make more sense. Itachi asked me to stay. Um, with him. And I want to because we're, well. [He huffs, amused at his own shyness. He hasn't actually told anyone before.] I love him, deeply. And he loves me too for some reason. [He smiles again, soft as he thinks of the bond that he and Itachi share. Of the love that he wouldn't have ever anticipated that had grown between them.]

It feels strange to choose not to go back, but I want to stay with him, even knowing I could choose to return. [And it isn't even something he has to think about. It's barely a choice at all. He wants to stay in the place where his heart resides.]

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