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Taxian-jun doesn’t remember ever sleeping well. All his nights, ever since he can recall, have been restless and bloody.
Lately he can’t actually recall much. Funny, if he thinks about it.
He doesn’t think about it.
When he thinks about saying, 'right after he won,' it means right after he won Chu Wanning. Winning the war still had some time to go. But this was just as good. This was better.
And right after he won, it was enough to know Chu-laoshi was in his palace, helpless to leave. A little while after that he was kept by his own word as much as Taxian-jun’s undeniable power. He was there by his own will, Taxian-jun kept reminding him. All he had to do was agree that the last of the Xue was beyond saving and he could go. Or die.
Taxian-jun had to tie him to the bed to keep him from trying to murder him while they slept. That was how he knew that he did sleep, this Wanning was no contendor for a waking Taxian-jun.
He doesn't remember dreaming of Wanning jumping lightly up to land in front of him, pushing him away from a well aimed, concealed dart. Wanning bleeds out from all his orifices in his arms and he kills everyone in the room and everyone responsible but it wasn't enough.
Then it wasn’t enough. No matter what he did, it couldn’t be enough. Even if he had Wanning crushed to a bed, his tongue in Wanning’s mouth, his cock in Wanning, it wasn’t enough. Maybe if Wanning could have had children, could grow round with it, proof growing under his skin that he belonged to Taxian-jun, that he had nothing left-- no powers, no one to turn to…
When he can, Taxian-jun holds Wanning to him, face buried in his stomach or at his throat, warmth of skin against skin, and pushing Wanning’s clever fingers into his own hair, always reeking of the interminable war. If he dozes at these times, he doesn’t know it.
A week before the anniversary of the night Taxian-jun married his Empress and his Chu-fei, he sends out word that he wants a fertility doctor and that he’ll pay handsomely. He also sends a discreet message to the Guyueye sect that he would appreciate it if they cooperate. There’s no need to say anything about what he’ll do if they don’t. That lesson has been well-taught.
He dreams of a Chu Wanning that looks just the same, tall and bony and hard, but a woman. He curls up at her back and pets at her stomach. She wants to stop him but she’s tied down to stop her from doing anything drastic again. He’s tired of taunting her. He scolds her instead, tells her that this is a happy moment, she just needs to stop fighting this. He can’t wait to meet his heir. He doesn’t see his heir, the baby dies soon after it’s born while he’s still a hundred li away, fighting a ragtag band of losers. He’s pretty sure that Song Qiutong killed the baby. Chu Wanning survives but only barely.
“You have to live. Chu-laoshi, I’ll do anything.”
“I’m here, Mo Weiyu.”
Taxian-jun doesn't want to be here, planning for a dumb anniversary ball. But the Empress has been making arrangements for months. She buys out all the gold and red silk there is to buy. Taxian-jun sends some to Chu-fei to make suitable anniversary clothing. Chu-fei throws a tantrum and throws it out. Taxian-jun asks again, a little less politely. Wanning obeys, in the end. He always obeys in the end.
Wanning falls asleep first this time. Taxian-jun’s eyes slide shut to Wanning’s whip around her throat. Wanning calls out, voice higher as a woman, Give up , stop this! Taxian-jun laughs, glee lighting up her voice. I don’t mind dying, she thinks. Kill yourself first! , she calls back, and then I’ll stop . She won’t, of course. She’s enjoying this too much. Wanning against her, three days going. Wanning tried to turn once, save that brat Xue Meng, but a warning move from Taxian-jun killed twenty-five people and brought her running back. She really should have learned to ride a sword, she’s so slow . The sky lights up with fire like a celebration as they fight.
The anniversary is celebrated magnificently. He says a few dignified words, nearly kills one person for stifling a laugh at his words. Then he doesn’t. He eats and drinks like a mongrel that hasn’t been fed in four days and doesn’t know when it will get food again. When it’s over, he sees the Empress to her room and goes over to Wanning. Wanning hasn’t worn the red and gold. Taxian-jun takes great pleasure in putting the clothes on him and then making him take them off.
In the end he simply holds Wanning down and takes what he wants. There’s very little blood, he congratulates himself. In the small hours of the night, Wanning is trembling, body exhausted and eyes blank with passion.
Then he throws himself down on the hopelessly stained silk and falls into oblivion. He doesn’t remember waking.
In his sleep he still sees Wanning crawling, Mo Ran on his back, hands and knees bloody. Wanning holding out something soft and white and delicious for him and Mo Ran doesn’t eat it. He can’t eat it. Chu-laoshi doesn’t have a core anymore, so all the time spent on inventions is spent cooking instead.
“I’m sorry, Chu-laoshi, I’m sorry.”
“I know, Mo Weiyu. It’s alright, it was my fault.”
It wasn't his fault, but three days later he feels sheepish and tells one of his Ministers to go buy him some books. When they come, he sends them all to Wanning. Wanning, naturally, is still ungrateful.
“I don’t have to do this, being kind to you. I could just throw you in the caves again.”
Chu Wanning does not even turn to look at him. Taxian-jun shrugs, bored with this, mild embarrassment already gone beyond recall. He hauls Wanning to himself easily and enjoys the automatic struggle. No matter how many times they do this, Wanning always struggles.
He sleeps.
“Chu-laoshi, I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.”
“I know, Mo Weiyu.”
“Look at me, Chu-laoshi!”
He wakes up. He doesn’t remember sleeping.