Work Text:
01 li lianhua
the existence of a torture chamber beside the wedding bedroom and its contents shouldn’t be a surprise at this point. and yet… it’s the redundancy you find offensive. she has a multi-chamber dungeon. she has a water chamber in her own quarters. why must it extend here as well? you despise the sight of unmarked bottles sitting ominously on a small table beside a decorative chair. they’re placed in front of an x-shaped rack fitted with iron ankle and wrist cuffs. there are hooks freshly installed in the ceiling.
you hear rattling and di feisheng is beside you, his expression neither upset nor surprised. just blankly contemplative. he kicks lightly at a thick gauge iron chain on the floor, comb in hand and his hair thrown over one shoulder. he looks around the room, eyes unfocused -- you’re not sure he’s actually seeing anything -- the snapping sounds as he rips the comb through a knot in his hair grates against your nerves.
you don’t want to be here anymore than you want him here – so you hold your hand out in front of his face and say, “give me that. i can’t stand watching you – do you want to go bald?”
it is a moment too long before he finally looks at you and the comb is deposited silently in your hand. you lead him to the table in the bedroom. on the way, you spot his hair ornament on a shelf and grab it.
at least while sitting, he’s tall enough that combing his hair is an intimacy that is easy on the arms. you’ve done this for a handful of others. your shiniang, your past lovers. your once-brother. now it is di feisheng’s still-damp hair you run your fingers and a comb through. silkier than zhan yunfei’s, more voluminous than qiao wanmian’s. its weight sits in your hand and tangles your fingers with the same tenacity of a spider’s web.
the knots cling, every bit as stubborn as their owner. was he born like this? or was this a learned trait? has he ever regretted a decision?
this man has followed you across the world – with or without his memories, every bit as dogged and loyal as fang duobing. ever single-minded in purpose. the affection he makes you feel has always been uncontrollable. you want to resent him as much as you feel fondness, but in the end, the fondness always wins out.
you tie his hair back and lock the familiar silver ornament in place, sliding the pin through the knot. (you bought this for him. with your own money, even, and not xiaobao’s.)
he twists around to look up at you – eyes open and clear in a way no one with his personal history should be able to have. you’ve never once felt this unburdened. years ago, you and lao di were both in the middle of puberty, youths, barely old enough or tall enough to count as adults. he looked up at you back then, in the same way, as you looked down from the trees. he never had to say or do anything to capture your attention. he just gazed straight into you, soft, open, and entirely receptive to anything you wanted to throw at him.
what else could you do?
you hit him with your very best.
xiaobao understands you like no one else. but this one – this one never cared about any of the things the world wanted from you. he didn’t see the future. he didn’t see potential. he didn’t see the power you wielded for the benefit of everyone. he saw only the you that stood in front of him. nothing more, nothing less.
and now? you know what he wants because you want it too. even now, there are moments you can hear the clang of sword, smell the burn of sparked sword oil, feel the heady rush of bloodlust. you crave the razor-sharp clarity that overtakes you as you take flight and know the man following you will be able to keep pace no matter where you go and what you do. you can let go. you don’t have to hold back anymore.
he sees you the way no one else does and you want him to see you that way again. you want to see him on the other side of your crossed blades and to find your steps again in the sky unburdened by lies or death. you want the life you could have had together.
there was a time, you could have dreamed of fighting together. eating together. watching as his hair turned white to match yours.
but you can’t. you only have memories left of that old you and the bitter flavor of passed time.
if only you had met again 10 years ago. or even 5 years ago, once your rage had burnt its way out of your heart and bones.
you can’t afford to want what di feisheng wants. (but you do. you want it. it burns worse than poison.)
tonight.
tonight, under the influence of good wine and the warmth of shared smiles, you will pretend you have the luxury of health and time.
tonight, you will pretend you are living the life you should have – a life free of shan gudao's shadow and without regrets.
*
02 di feisheng
you are tortured your whole life and for a moment, you actually die; but you are alive now and stronger than ever. you drink wine with a loved one and he smiles in shared understanding (finally, after all these years. you’ve waited for him.)
the suffering was worth it if that is what brings you both to this moment.
under the moon’s blessing, you smile back and for the first time in your life, you hope for the future.