Chapter Text
Xichen would never admit it aloud, but he is stressed.
He is stressed and he wishes he could just abandon his sect and run away from it all.
He never would. Obviously not. This is a flight of selfish fancy, a brief playing at an idea he would never have the strength to follow through on.
As he approaches the little secluded glade he's claimed for his own, falls back against the gnarled old tree with branches that sag toward the serene, still waters of the small lake, he finally allows his signature smile to falter.
A frown marks his face instead, and he rubs his temples to ward away the headache that threatens to spear his mind if he doesn't relax.
Deep breaths, he reminds himself. In... And out. In... And out.
Just like when he was helping a young Wangji through one of his sensory episodes. The Cloud Recesses is typically a quite hospitable place for someone with senses as delicate as his, but even the mighty wall of rules cannot prevent all chaos, all loud and disruptive sounds.
Xichen himself doesn't suffer the same way as his didi, but it would be wrong to say he's never overwhelmed. It's simply different things. Pressure and responsibility, mostly.
Especially recently.
He lets out a last breath as a heavy sigh, his head lying back against the bark of the ancient tree. A slight breeze brushes through the drooping branches, and a couple leaves flutter loose.
If only he could cast aside his burdens so easily.
A part of him can't help but be amused at the idea that he's feeling jealous of a tree, of all things - though that part isn't strong enough to dispel the gloom that hangs over him.
He's been advised before that confessing one's worries can help to reduce them and calm the mind - but he doesn't really have anyone he's comfortable talking to about these specific subjects. His father is hardly present, Qiren means well and wants the best for him... But he's also the source of most of his stresses, Wangji shouldn't be made to bear his burdens - what kind of older brother would he be to inflict his concerns on his didi?
Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang are the sort of men who cannot be trusted with secrets if one wants them to remain such, Nie Mingjue is... kind, but too blunt, unlikely to offer any delicacy in his response or advice. Jiang Cheng has the same issue, and seems perpetually in a foul mood. Wen Ning is a wonderful boy, but he might freeze like a newborn deer at the realization that Xichen has struggles at all, and his sister Qing is so very blunt... much like Mingjue, now that he thinks of it. Jin Zixuan is too busy being enamored with Jiang Yanli while pretending not to be, and she...
Well, she might be a light enough touch. But would Xichen approaching her privately be misconstrued?
He simply can't risk it.
And so with nearly everyone in his circle ruled out, Xichen has taken to coming out here, to this little glade, this slice of concealed serenity, and simply speaking his worries aloud to the tranquil waters, the chittering insects, and chirping songbirds.
Perhaps it's not as helpful as a sympathetic ear, but it's still something. And out here he need not concern himself with how his emotions will be perceived if he gets overwhelmed.
"People are starting to ask questions about why Wangji and I haven't met our spirit bonds yet." He begins, though this isn't actually the most pressing of the matters that have been weighing on his mind. "He's still in the range where it's unusual but not uncommon, but I... I am quite firmly too old to still be without one."
Xichen slumps forward until his chest rests against his knees. "It's not unheard of. I know that. And if he knew of my concerns, Wangji would mention the legends of those blessed by rarer, celestial beings often receiving their bonds late, but I... I confess I struggle to hope for such fortune."
"What would it even mean for a future sect leader? Would anyone have faith in my leadership?" His eyes press tightly shut, willing back the tears that try to spring from them. "I don't know how they could. I honestly... don't believe they would."
A ragged, trembling breath escapes his throat. That's one fear confessed.
"...which leads me to the other thing. As sect leader I... I will be expected to..." He chokes on the words, the thoughts racing through his mind generating such revulsion that he can hardly speak. His muscles tense, and even knowing that he's surely all alone out here, a deep crimson heat burns across his face, which he buries behind his long sleeves.
"I don't want to. I don't... Understand it. I mean, I do, but I..." Another shudder runs through him as flashes of the lewd images in a book confiscated from one of the juniors embed themselves unbidden in his mind. His stomach turns at the idea of performing such an act himself.
Despite the reputation of the Lan sect, Xichen is hardly unaware of such things. Even among the most devoted to the rules like his dear brother have shown... interest.
He'd never mentioned the book he found concealed in the floorboards of Wangji's room to anyone, and never spoken of it to Wangji. As far as Xichen was concerned, that was his business, and he's always felt that his didi could stand to be a little less rigid, so learning of his secret stash was reassuring in a way, but...
It's still left him wondering. Where in the past he might have been able to pass off his lack of desire as simply due to his upbringing, if that was the case then surely Wangji would feel the same. And he obviously doesn't.
It leaves Xichen shivering, and feeling terribly alone.
"Is something wrong with me? Everyone else is so... entranced by it. Why am I different?"
The pool of water shimmers as it reflects the light, but no answers come.
The tears he'd fought back earlier force their way out, his will to stop them gone.
"I don't want to... to 'produce an heir'..." The words fall out of his mouth, their taste clinging like bitter medicine to his tongue. "I don't want to be alone, but I don't know if I can... What if they want me to..."
Each time he falls short of saying it, but even so the idea alone makes him feel slimy, unclean.
But what can he do? He can't abandon his duty. It's part of being the future leader...
Xichen pulls his knees as tight to his chest as he's able, and sits there until the last rays of sunlight fade away and groups of gleaming fireflies start circling the pond. He's so deep in the swirling mire of his own thoughts that he doesn't even notice the eyes that are watching him from among the trees.
It's well after curfew when he finally drags himself home, slipping back to his room unnoticed. He makes a note to copy out the rules tomorrow as punishment.
He's confessed his fears, and yet... The anxiety still aches inside him as he lies down for sleep.
The question lodges itself in the front of his mind, unable to be dismissed...
Am I going to die alone?
Despite that, the following day Xichen is all gentle smiles as he goes about his routine in the Cloud Recesses. A perfect facade maintained through keeping himself too busy to dwell on such far-off concerns.
He focuses on the here and now - this task, then the next, then the next. Bathing, dressing, breakfast, stretches, meetings, letters, mediation, copying the rules as punishment for last night, lunch, studies... One check mark after the other on a never-ending to-do list.
For the afternoon, he's going to practice his music, or perhaps a bit of painting. He's been working on a landscape scene lately, an attempt to capture the peace of that secret little glade. Perhaps he will see Nie Mingjue around - he’s heard that he intends to stop by in an effort to ‘motivate’ his younger brother. Xichen just hopes he won’t be too forceful about it.
But first, Lan Qiren asked him to check in on Wangji as he supervises the latest punishment of Wei Wuxian, and deliver a couple of scrolls to the pair.
"Wangji? I brought the scrolls that Qiren assigned to..."
Xichen's voice trails off as he steps inside and blinks at the strange sight before him.
Wangji is at his desk, of course, piled with the papers he's been working on, the documents he's reviewing or studying or copying out... But the normally meticulously arranged stacks are in a state of wild disarray.
And a little white rabbit is looking up at Wangji from atop the mess.
Xichen scans the room quickly, looking for the other one who should be here, and yet...
"Wei Wuxian isn't with you?"
Wangji throws a glare at the open window, at the nearly imperceptible scuff marks on the sill, before returning his attention to the rabbit. It scratches at its ear with a hind leg, then hops around to look up at Xichen.
"I... see. And where did this little one come from?"
Wangji huffs dismissively and glares out the window again.
Xichen can't help but crack a small smile at his didi throwing a fit over this little prank - or what he's assuming was a prank. Wei Wuxian does seem inclined to such things.
"Should take it back outside. Pets are forbidden." Wangji finally says, though as he tries to grab the rabbit it nimbly hops away from him.
A faint chuckle escapes Xichen. "I'll help, don't worry."
When he approaches, the rabbit suddenly leaps out of his grasp too, but this time lands delicately on Wangji's shoulder. He reaches for it again and again, but each time it bounces gracefully to the other shoulder.
Xichen waits until his brother has frightened the poor thing back to his other side, and then grabs for it as it lands...
"Ah!"
He pulls his fingers back, a slight trickle of blood beading up on one.
Xichen stares in disbelief at the small white rabbit on his didi's shoulder. It growls, as if protecting him.
And then, all he can do is laugh.
Wangji continues to swat at the thing, ending up chasing it in a circle about his study while Xichen laughs at the whole situation.
"Xiongzhang, please..."
"I'm... I'm sorry, didi. Sorry... Haha." Xichen dabs away joyful tears from the corners of his eyes. "It's just... Ah, I suppose I should congratulate you on finally meeting your spirit bond."
Wangji's eyes go wide, and he looks between the rabbit - once again sat smugly atop his papers with tiny pink nose twitching - and his brother standing in the doorway. "...impossible."
"You think so?"
"Mm."
Xichen holds up his finger, displaying the small cut. "It was defending you."
Wangji presses his lips together, staring down at the rabbit and silently considering. Xichen knows that look, the internal calculations seeking any escape from the answer he doesn't wish to admit to.
Finally, he flops back down at the desk. The rabbit instantly jumps into his lap and makes itself comfortable.
"You should be honored, really. It's a rare thing to receive your bond as a gift from another. It might even be a sign..." Xichen teases him.
A red flush dusts the tips of Wangji's ears, and the rabbit uses its paws to pull its own ears down and cover its eyes. He pouts even more intensely than before.
"Well, I'll leave you to it." Xichen offers a slight bow before stepping out the door. "After all, you'll have to think of a name."
The last thing he hears from his brother as he slides back outside is a muffled whine. Good. Wangji... You'll be okay.
He's happy for Wangji. Why wouldn't he be? His brother has finally gotten his one true companion. Though pets are forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, true, that's only because they are - as Wangji would quote from the texts - frivolous.
A spirit bond is entirely different, the manifestation of one's soul in animal form. A person cannot be complete without one.
The ghost of a frown threatens to haunt Xichen's lips, but he banishes it as he walks back across the open spaces of the Cloud Recesses.
Qiren's ancient owl, Haoyu, sits on a perch outside the window of his office, keeping watch for any sign of mischief or disruptive behavior while Qiren himself is buried in checking over the last batch of assignments from his students.
Jiang Cheng lazes under the shade of a tree in the gardens, with his snow leopard Mingyue laying across his lap. Xichen sees Aizhen - Wei Wuxian's crow - nearby, so doubtless the boy isn't far, but he doesn't see him. Probably trying to keep away from Haoyu's wary gaze.
Nie Huaisang cowers near the gates with his little canary, Yufei, on his shoulder. His older brother Mingjue heard last week that his grades were slipping, and so the mountain of a man and his hawk Jiahao are giving him a rather stern warning to pay more attention to his studies.
"Are you even trying?"
"Y-yes gege, I swear I just..." Huaisang sobs, and Yufei twitters anxiously.
“Try harder.” He growls back.
Xichen considers stepping in and asking Mingjue to be a little softer on the boy. Yes, he could stand to spend less of his effort on whatever scheme Wei Wuxian is working on and more on his lessons, but he's clearly not built to be the warrior that Mingjue is. A strong core can take one far, but the elder Nie has many physical advantages that Huaisang simply doesn't - height for one, not to mention muscle.
He could still be a fine cultivator, even if his talents are probably better suited to diplomacy. After all, Qiren wouldn't waste his time on a student if he didn't believe he had potential.
Mingjue stalks off, Jiahao making a show of snapping his razor beak into the air close to Huaisang's nose. He yelps and backs away even though it was obviously an empty threat.
When he's gone, Huaisang flops onto a bench and holds his little canary, delicately stroking its head in between wiping away tears. Yufei leans into the touch, pressing his tiny head into Huaisang's fingers.
Xichen slips away, as a tightness pulls across his chest.
A little farther down the path, Jiang Yanli and Wen Qing sit together in the grass, admiring a patch of wildflowers. Yanli's pale white serpent, Bai Suzhen, is draped across her shoulders and flicking her tongue, tasting the scent of the flowers as Yanli breathes in to savor the smell.
Wen Qing plucks a couple of them, pointing out some passages in a book she has laying between them. Likely a medical text, knowing her. Wen Ning, her little brother, is a few paces away from the girls in another patch of flowers, but he seems to have been distracted by the sugar glider clinging to his arm - Chunhua.
At first Xichen wonders where Chenghuo, Qing's phoenix might have gone, but then he spies the regal and fierce bird with its smoldering feathers staring intently at a particular spot behind a tree. Continuing his stroll he sees Jin Zixuan doing a poor job of hiding himself behind said tree, peeking around it and watching Yanli with a deep blush on his face while his golden peacock Zhipeng paces fretfully behind him.
Xichen attempts a smile, amused by the bashful affectations of the boy. Zixuan and Yanli have been promised to one another since they were children, and still he is as shy as a mouse around her.
But as funny as he would normally find the irrational behaviors of those who don't realize how much their crush shows, who remain oblivious to how deeply the object of their affection cares for them... He can't help but feel pangs of jealousy today.
He forces the smile onto his face anyway, for the sake of appearances, at least. He'd hate to burden anyone else with worrying over him.
Wen Ning looks up from playing with Chunhua as Xichen passes, and he scrambles to his feet to make a slight bow. "Z-Zewu-jun! Hello."
The smile becomes just a bit more genuine.
"Good afternoon Wen Ning." He nods, and the boy sits back down just as his sister seems to realize that he's not searching out the herbs she asked him for. Xichen hears her voice as he continues on the path.
He's not sure when, but his course has altered, quickened. By the time he's nearly reached his private room it's all he can do to keep himself from breaking into a sprint. His heart is pounding, he can hear it in his ears.
It's all he can hear.
It's all he can think.
Alone.
Alone alone alone.
It's not enough that he fears the idea of a relationship as much as he desires one - he doesn't even have a spirit bond.
He has nothing and no one to seek comfort in.
As soon as he closes the door behind him, he takes a breath, just enough time to assure himself that nobody is around to see him.
And then he collapses, knees buckling as he falls to the floor. His next breath comes as a ragged, desperate gasp and his eyes instantly well up with tears.
He doesn’t want to admit that he’s jealous of them. He doesn’t want to be jealous of them. It’s unbecoming of him.
But there’s no other name to put to the sickly ache in his chest and gut.
He wants to be happy for them. He should be happy for them.
But all he can think about is how he grows ever more alone by the day.
Huaisang might struggle with his brother’s expectations, but at least he has Yufei. Jiang Cheng has his snow leopard to hold when Madam Yu bears down on him, or when Wei Wuxian is causing trouble. And by the same turn, Wei Wuxian has Aizhen.
Until today, he at least theoretically had his didi, even if he couldn’t bring himself to burden Wangji with his loneliness - at least he knew that Wangji understood some part of this pain.
Xichen clutches at his chest, doubling over as tears spill in heavy, thick drops onto his robes or the floor. He chokes on the selfishness of his feelings, falling into a hacking cough as if that might expel the torturous conflict pulling him between his honest feelings and the crushing shame they cause.
He lies there for a long time, curling into an ever-tighter ball of despair, his thoughts a whirling storm of desperation and self-loathing.
He has no idea how long it’s been when the pained sobs finally weaken, but the light coming through the window has faded to almost nothing. He tries to drag himself up to standing, but his legs have gone numb from being in a heap on the floor for so long, and they give out as soon as he puts any weight on them.
Xichen lets out a soft yelp as he hits the wooden floor. He pushes himself up with a groan and thinks better of trying again.
So, undignified as it is, he drags himself along the floor and into his bed. He's so exhausted from the weight of his own poison thoughts that he can't think of how disheveled his robes must be. He just lays down and attempts to sleep.
But even a body exhausted can be kept awake if the mind is too busy. And Xichen's will not quiet.
He finds himself acutely aware of the size of his bed in a way that's never occurred to him before. It's plenty large enough for two. This idea has never troubled him before, and yet tonight he shifts to the side rather than lying in the center.
His hand rests on the cold empty space where a partner might go. Some of the poems in the library speak of this feeling of loss, but it is always in the context of an absent or deceased lover, always subtly hinting at more than just a desire for their presence.
Xichen grasps at the nothing beside him. Can you mourn someone who never existed? Is it truly even the same feeling, longing only for another to hold and not to engage in... such acts with?
It's something he's often wondered as he read the works of the past, so many he feels and relates to so very keenly... Right up until they start making euphemistic references.
With a sigh, Xichen tries again to close his eyes and sleep.
When rest again fails to come, he crosses the room and digs in the trunk in the corner, pulling out an extra blanket kept for the winter months. Instead of laying it out flat, he rolls it up as one might a tapestry or rug, and throws it onto the empty space in the bed.
Eyes closed, he wraps his arms around the rolled blanket, willing himself to believe that he won't be doing this for the rest of his life.
He doesn't normally find it so hard to be optimistic, but eventually the struggle tires his head enough to find a fitful sleep.