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Thirteen years was a lifetime for some, and a mere blink for others.
A length of time that dragged and stretched, yet at the end, you wondered where the time had gone.
Lan Wangji was meeting that end.
He looked to his son and wondered where the time had gone.
Lan Sizhui, his little a-Yuan, now grown into a kind and thoughtful young man.
He looked to the horizon, and the slowly setting sun.
The weight of the years pressing down upon his shoulders, the unbearably slow march of time playing out before him.
For some thirteen years was a lifetime, for others a mere blink.
Lan Wangji had enjoyed and suffered both.
And now, with bated breath, he waited for its end.
-x-
Thirteen Years Earlier
The storm had caught them by surprise.
Rolling in before they had a chance to react.
Turning the sea a roiling mass of waves as rain thundered down and the heavy clouds crashed and flickered.
He can’t remember what happened.
Not really.
Only snippets.
The terrified look in his brother’s eyes.
The stark white of his knuckles against the wood as the boat bucked and heaved beneath them.
His love, eyes closed and unnaturally still between them.
Blood a vibrant red on his temple.
He could remember the fear, the helplessness.
He could remember the wave that crashed over them.
The cut off scream when Wen Ning was washed overboard.
He’d dived after him before Jiang Cheng could stop him.
He could remember praying to the Gods when he’d found him.
Tossed carelessly about by the sea, their boat nowhere in sight, he’d clutched Wen Ning’s cold body to himself and prayed.
He hadn’t expected an answer.
Hadn’t expected the soft golden light in the violent grey of the storm.
He is gone, child.
Wei Wuxian shook his head, denials spilling from his lips.
A wave knocked them under, he resurfaced spluttering and gasping, he couldn’t even hear his own voice as he begged, “Save us, please.”
What price are you willing to pay?
“Anything.”
The golden light pulsed with a tinkling laugh.
As you wish, child.
Wei Wuxian wasn’t quite sure what happened, but suddenly black smoke shot through with gold wrapped around them and dragged them under the water.
He fought the smoke’s hold, instinct kicking in. Panic rising when his skin paled before his eyes, black stark against the white as it raced through his veins.
He screamed, lungs emptying of air as his golden core was ripped from his very centre.
…
He awoke on a ship, docked on an unknown greyscale shore.
“Where…?” he croaked, a painful cough rattling his chest.
“The Inbetween, child,” a golden hand reached down to help him to his feet.
“What?”
A smile curved the figure’s lips, their head tilted in apparent amused bemusement. “A deal was struck, child.”
“I don’t understand.”
Golden fingers pressed lightly against the hollow ache in his chest. “To walk upon the shore, one must possess a golden core. A single core cannot sustain two vessels, child. You made your choice, and the deal was struck.”
And thus their fates were sealed.
A shared core.
A shared eternity of service.
Thirteen years upon the sea, fulfilling the role of a ferryman for the Gods.
Rewarded by thirteen years upon the shore.
And so the cycle would continue.
Wei Wuxian had no choice but to bow to the will of the Gods.
-x-
He was used to the bone deep ache that suffused his chest.
Used to the lingering pain of longing and homesickness.
Thirteen years was a long time to become accustomed to such things.
And yet, when the sun slipped below the horizon, like the final grain of sand in an hourglass, thirteen years felt like a mere drop in the ocean.
The ache turned into a tug strong enough to pull him from his cabin.
“Captain!” the Lookout cried. “Land!”
And land there was, a green smudge on the horizon.
The green of growing things.
The green of life.
Wei Wuxian had not seen such a thing in thirteen long years, trapped as he was in the grayscale sea of the Inbetween, tasked with ferrying the recently dead to the land of their ancestors.
The Gods were true to their word.
A wet laugh slipped past his lips, vision blurring with tears.
He could go home.
-x-
Storm clouds gathered out to sea.
The grey a roiling mass above the water.
Lightning flickered and flashed.
And between one blink and the next a ship appeared upon the waves.
They’d already said their last goodbyes to Wen Ning, but Wen Qing still wrapped her arms around him. Clutching him close one last time as another thirteen years would have to pass before they'd see each other again.
The ship was almost upon them when the siblings finally separated, grey sails billowing in the wind.
Time for Lan Wangji slowed to a crawl, the return of his love now almost in reach.
-x-
He could see them on the shore.
His family.
He was almost tempted to just dive over the side and swim the rest of the way, but he managed to resist the temptation long enough for them to drop anchor and lower a rowing boat.
Four of his crew came to row him ashore, leering and joking the whole way at his eagerness to get back to his husband. They laughed at his fidgeting, teased him over his anxiously bouncing leg, and yet they heaved the oars as fast as they could, wanting to reunite their beloved Captain with his family once more.
The boat had barely come to a stop before he was over the side and splashing his way through the shallows.
A teary Wen Ning was there to greet him.
“I’m sorry,” he said as they fell into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve gone through but thank you. Thank you, thank you so much for saving me.”
“a-Ning,” Wei Wuxian held him tighter, “how could I have done anything else?”
The wind swirled around them as they stood upon land and sea.
It was time.
A golden light burned between them.
A hitched breath and a gasp.
Wei Wuxian watched, eyes wide as the black in his veins poured out and sunk into Wen Ning’s.
His breath stuttered as the hollow ache within was suffused with warmth.
He pulled back, hand moving to cup Wen Ning’s now ghostly pale face, the black making its way up his throat.
“They’re a good crew. They’ll help you and care for you.”
“I promise to make you proud.”
“I’ll always be proud of you, a-Ning,” Wei Wuxian smiled, a watery thing, but true, nonetheless.
He waited, although he wasn’t sure how, until Wen Ning was safely aboard the boat and heading back to the ship, then he was running.
Running as fast as his wobbly sea legs would take him on land.
He sobbed when strong arms caught him and held him close.
Sobbed at the sandalwood scent that enveloped him.
“Wei Ying,” a voice rumbled in his ear.
“Lan Zhan,” he cried in return.
Thirteen years was a long time to be separated.
A lifetime for some.
A mere blink for others.
Wei Wuxian didn’t care what happened next. All he knew was that he wouldn’t waste a single second of it.