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fandomweekly2023-01-30 07:53 pm
curiosity) wrote in fandomweekly2023-01-30 07:53 pm
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[#165] Dreaming of Forgiveness (MDZS)
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Theme Prompt: #165 - Apology
Title: Dreaming of Forgiveness
Fandom: MDZS
Rating/Warnings: G / light angst
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Wei Wuxian has a lot to atone for. But he can't even start.
“I owe you an apology,” Wei Wuxian said.
For once the carefree man had no smile on his face. He knelt in the ancestors’ shrine of Yunmeng Jiang, forehead pressed to the floor. Tears stung his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He did not deserve to cry over this.
“I was foolish and short-sighted,” he went on, his fingers curled into tight fists against the glossy wooden planks until it hurt. “I thought I had all the answers but things got out of control. And you suffered for it. I’m so sorry.”
The carefully-tended rows of memorial tablets offered no reply. The air lay thick and unmoving in the silent shrine. Wei Wuxian didn’t move from his spot. He was prepared to kneel as long as it took. Forever, if need be.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, over and over.
Eventually, sunlight faded. A chill crept in to the room. The scent of incense, once cloying, faded to a memory. Outside, night birds cried and bats whirred by. Frogs croaked and disciples made the rounds, exchanging hushed whispers as they passed the open doors of the ancestors’ shrine.
Wei Wuxian did not move. He did not acknowledge them. They were not the voices he wanted to hear most.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“We’ve heard that one before.”
A harsh scoff. Sure-footed steps across the floor. A strong hand at the scruff of his neck, lifting him from his bow. A familiar scent of mingled hair and sword oils. Wei Wuxian’s tears began to fall even as he found himself lifted and plunked on to his feet. That hand on his neck guided him to bow from the waist, in tandem with the body beside his own.
“Wei Wuxian begs forgiveness for bothering you all, honored ancestors,” Jiang Cheng said. “He’s sorry, A-Jie, I’ll make sure he eats.”
“Oh A-Xian. So dramatic,” Jiang Yanli giggled, from somewhere behind him.
Wei Wuxian turned, breaking free of the hand at the back of his neck. Brilliant light streamed into the shrine. Jiang Yanli, his shijie, smiled at him from her halo of warmth. Her eyes curled into happy crescents and her nose crinkled in genuine amusement.
“You get so carried away,” she chided, stepping forward to tap him on the nose. “Is this where you’ve been hiding all day? A-Cheng and I have been looking for you. Come eat with us. A-Cheng made the soup this time and it’s very good.”
“A-Jie! Don’t tell him that!” Jiang Cheng burst out, sounding aggrieved. “Now he’s not even going to give it an honest chance.”
Jiang Yanli lifted her sleeve to hide her laughter, but her eyes gave her away. “Sorry, A-Cheng. But it would be cruel to trick him, wouldn’t it?”
“Not like he doesn’t deserve it, for being such a gremlin,” Jiang Cheng muttered, glaring at Wei Wuxian half-heartedly. “Well, come on then! Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
Wei Wuxian let his martial siblings pull him along; his shijie tugging one arm, his shidi pulling on the other. Laughing and cajoling, they led him away from the ancestors’ shrine and into the kitchens. He allowed himself to be plunked onto a stool, unable to take his eyes off of them. He’d been so convinced that they were gone forever.
But here they were, as lively and animated as ever. Jiang Cheng grudgingly set a bowl of soup in front of him with a stern glare and an order to eat every bite. Jiang Yanli passed Wei Wuxian a plate of pickled vegetables. She gently chivvied Jiang Cheng into eating as well.
It was completely at odds with the horrible battle that had raged only days ago. He’d thought for sure they would never speak to him again.
“A-Xian, you aren’t eating.” Jiang Yanli frowned at him, ever so slightly.
Wei Wuxian rushed to ladle up a spoonful and put it into his mouth before Jiang Cheng could start griping. For a moment, he savored the succulent pork rib and tender lotus root. For a moment, he’d never tasted anything so divine in his entire life.
Then it turned to ashes in his mouth.
Wei Wuxian remembered that he’d never gotten to try A-Cheng’s cooking. He’d never gotten so much as a taste of that soup.
The Wen had come.
He snapped awake, every cell of Wei Wuxian’s body screaming in terror from the nightmare. He jerked up off the dusty floor. Broken fragments of memorial tablets lay scattered about him in a jagged ring.
He’d done this. He’d destroyed all the tablets, unable to face the chore of cleaning the shrine and making space for new tablets. Yunmeng Jiang had lost so many.
“Wei Wuxian, what are you doing in here?” Jiang Cheng demanded from the doorway.
This was no laughing and smiling vision. This Jiang Cheng was exhausted, still wearing blood-stained clothing, and angry. “You’ve been missing for hours! A-Jie is sick with worry. What’s wrong with you? In a time like this?”
Wei Wuxian stumbling a bit over the broken tablets as he crushed his shidi. Jiang Cheng resisted for a moment, then gave up and hugged him back. He smelled of sweat and blood and dirt. He was alive.
“I’m so sorry, Jiang Cheng.” Wei Wuxian sobbed into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.
“We’ve heard that before,” Jiang Cheng retorted, trying to shake Wei Wuxian off. “Quit that. Are you wiping your snotty nose on my clothes? This is my cleanest robe, you jerk!”
“It smells awful,” Wei Wuxian retorted, finishing wiping his nose. “Jiang Cheng, I’m truly sorry.”
He got a bewildered look in return. “It wasn’t your fault our parents were away. We defended Lotus Pier on our own.” Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Come on, you lunatic. A-Jie made soup. She’s going to cry again if you don’t eat. Then I’ll have to break your legs.”
“Anything you say, Jiang Cheng.”
Theme Prompt: #165 - Apology
Title: Dreaming of Forgiveness
Fandom: MDZS
Rating/Warnings: G / light angst
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Wei Wuxian has a lot to atone for. But he can't even start.
“I owe you an apology,” Wei Wuxian said.
For once the carefree man had no smile on his face. He knelt in the ancestors’ shrine of Yunmeng Jiang, forehead pressed to the floor. Tears stung his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He did not deserve to cry over this.
“I was foolish and short-sighted,” he went on, his fingers curled into tight fists against the glossy wooden planks until it hurt. “I thought I had all the answers but things got out of control. And you suffered for it. I’m so sorry.”
The carefully-tended rows of memorial tablets offered no reply. The air lay thick and unmoving in the silent shrine. Wei Wuxian didn’t move from his spot. He was prepared to kneel as long as it took. Forever, if need be.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, over and over.
Eventually, sunlight faded. A chill crept in to the room. The scent of incense, once cloying, faded to a memory. Outside, night birds cried and bats whirred by. Frogs croaked and disciples made the rounds, exchanging hushed whispers as they passed the open doors of the ancestors’ shrine.
Wei Wuxian did not move. He did not acknowledge them. They were not the voices he wanted to hear most.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“We’ve heard that one before.”
A harsh scoff. Sure-footed steps across the floor. A strong hand at the scruff of his neck, lifting him from his bow. A familiar scent of mingled hair and sword oils. Wei Wuxian’s tears began to fall even as he found himself lifted and plunked on to his feet. That hand on his neck guided him to bow from the waist, in tandem with the body beside his own.
“Wei Wuxian begs forgiveness for bothering you all, honored ancestors,” Jiang Cheng said. “He’s sorry, A-Jie, I’ll make sure he eats.”
“Oh A-Xian. So dramatic,” Jiang Yanli giggled, from somewhere behind him.
Wei Wuxian turned, breaking free of the hand at the back of his neck. Brilliant light streamed into the shrine. Jiang Yanli, his shijie, smiled at him from her halo of warmth. Her eyes curled into happy crescents and her nose crinkled in genuine amusement.
“You get so carried away,” she chided, stepping forward to tap him on the nose. “Is this where you’ve been hiding all day? A-Cheng and I have been looking for you. Come eat with us. A-Cheng made the soup this time and it’s very good.”
“A-Jie! Don’t tell him that!” Jiang Cheng burst out, sounding aggrieved. “Now he’s not even going to give it an honest chance.”
Jiang Yanli lifted her sleeve to hide her laughter, but her eyes gave her away. “Sorry, A-Cheng. But it would be cruel to trick him, wouldn’t it?”
“Not like he doesn’t deserve it, for being such a gremlin,” Jiang Cheng muttered, glaring at Wei Wuxian half-heartedly. “Well, come on then! Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
Wei Wuxian let his martial siblings pull him along; his shijie tugging one arm, his shidi pulling on the other. Laughing and cajoling, they led him away from the ancestors’ shrine and into the kitchens. He allowed himself to be plunked onto a stool, unable to take his eyes off of them. He’d been so convinced that they were gone forever.
But here they were, as lively and animated as ever. Jiang Cheng grudgingly set a bowl of soup in front of him with a stern glare and an order to eat every bite. Jiang Yanli passed Wei Wuxian a plate of pickled vegetables. She gently chivvied Jiang Cheng into eating as well.
It was completely at odds with the horrible battle that had raged only days ago. He’d thought for sure they would never speak to him again.
“A-Xian, you aren’t eating.” Jiang Yanli frowned at him, ever so slightly.
Wei Wuxian rushed to ladle up a spoonful and put it into his mouth before Jiang Cheng could start griping. For a moment, he savored the succulent pork rib and tender lotus root. For a moment, he’d never tasted anything so divine in his entire life.
Then it turned to ashes in his mouth.
Wei Wuxian remembered that he’d never gotten to try A-Cheng’s cooking. He’d never gotten so much as a taste of that soup.
The Wen had come.
He snapped awake, every cell of Wei Wuxian’s body screaming in terror from the nightmare. He jerked up off the dusty floor. Broken fragments of memorial tablets lay scattered about him in a jagged ring.
He’d done this. He’d destroyed all the tablets, unable to face the chore of cleaning the shrine and making space for new tablets. Yunmeng Jiang had lost so many.
“Wei Wuxian, what are you doing in here?” Jiang Cheng demanded from the doorway.
This was no laughing and smiling vision. This Jiang Cheng was exhausted, still wearing blood-stained clothing, and angry. “You’ve been missing for hours! A-Jie is sick with worry. What’s wrong with you? In a time like this?”
Wei Wuxian stumbling a bit over the broken tablets as he crushed his shidi. Jiang Cheng resisted for a moment, then gave up and hugged him back. He smelled of sweat and blood and dirt. He was alive.
“I’m so sorry, Jiang Cheng.” Wei Wuxian sobbed into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.
“We’ve heard that before,” Jiang Cheng retorted, trying to shake Wei Wuxian off. “Quit that. Are you wiping your snotty nose on my clothes? This is my cleanest robe, you jerk!”
“It smells awful,” Wei Wuxian retorted, finishing wiping his nose. “Jiang Cheng, I’m truly sorry.”
He got a bewildered look in return. “It wasn’t your fault our parents were away. We defended Lotus Pier on our own.” Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Come on, you lunatic. A-Jie made soup. She’s going to cry again if you don’t eat. Then I’ll have to break your legs.”
“Anything you say, Jiang Cheng.”
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