A/N: Originally done as a request, this story is a series of short moments that, together, show the transformation of Zhao Yun and Jiang Wei's relationship from friendship to romance. The emphasis in this story's creation was on imagery and emotion, which is why the plot remained extremely simple throughout. In either case—my first time experimenting with this pairing, and though I don't foresee writing about them again in the near future, I suppose it's not impossible.

Pairing: Zhao Yun x Jiang Wei

Warnings: None.

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Falling Flowers

First Day

The boy was new. Zhao Yun could tell by the wide, staring eyes in his smooth face and the spear he was gripping just a little too tightly in both hands. There was no mistaking the blank surprise flickering across the young man's features with each tense step he took, every aspect of the bustling Shu camp around him lighting his expression like a brief firefly before another took its place.

The Little Dragon recognized that expression – the same one he had worn all those years ago upon first setting foot in Gongsun Zan's encampment, awed by the motion and the noise and the purpose of the rushing soldiers all around him. The mirror image of his younger self trailing behind the Prime Minister's silk robes made Zhao Yun smile, and he stood carefully from the stool where he'd been cleaning his armor, his hair whispering around him like waving grass as Zhuge Liang's voice reached his waiting ears.

"…this area is for the quarters of our most distinguished warriors. We hope your own tent will someday rest beside theirs, Jiang Wei."

Jiang Wei – the young warrior, his knuckles white with excitement and apprehension – dropped to one knee, his gentle head tipped forward in a reverent bow. Zhao Yun watched his face with careful black eyes. A nod, a blink – two lips pressed together in nervousness that wasn't showing in his smile.

"Yes, Prime Minister. I'm honored to be invited into your army. I swear to do my utmost in your service."

Zhuge Liang's mouth twitched into a waiting smirk, one his fan quickly hid from the prying eyes of the soldiers on all sides. The white feathers glistened like new-fallen raindrops in the sun, overshadowing the clever eyes and quicker smile behind them.

"I expect much of you, Jiang Wei. Do not forget that you have been hand-picked as my successor. I ask you to do nothing that might ridicule my choice."

Zhao Yun frowned just a little. There were things he had never liked about the Prime Minister of Shu, though he'd acknowledged the man's untouchable brilliance the minute he met him. There was an undercurrent of darkness to Zhuge Liang that stuck in Zhao Yun's mind; a quiet thread of cunning, of coldness, that made the Dragon of Changshan stiffen in his stance. Made him wonder whether the young man – Jiang Wei, with his open smile, his nervous fingers – deserved the heavy hand of the renowned strategist as his guiding light…

Jiang Wei didn't hear it – the cold tone, the thread of condescension. Zhao Yun could tell just by looking at him. There was nothing but admiration in the young warrior's expression, nothing but honesty in his voice as he bowed once more.

"Yes, Prime Minister. I wouldn't dare. I swear I shall dedicate my every moment here to honoring your expectations."

A step; a smile. A serpent's chuckle without any malice. Zhuge Liang brushed the strands of his flowing hair over one shoulder and turned away from his new apprentice, the edges of his fan wavering in the breeze.

"Then I shall trust you with my legacy. It is a heavy burden, Jiang Wei. I pray you are up to the task of carrying it."

Jiang Wei kept his head bowed, his spear flat as driftwood against the ground as the Prime Minister's steps moved away from him. Zhuge Liang's voice fell like a heavy cloak behind him, dismissing the young man with the same force as his unhurried footsteps.

"I have matters I must attend to at this time. Please make yourself familiar with the camp and its occupants. I shall expect you at sunrise tomorrow."

Jiang Wei nodded hard, though there was no one to see him now – no one but Zhao Yun, his softly disapproving eyes fixed on Zhuge Liang's retreating back.

"Yes, sir. I will, sir. Thank you."

His voice was higher than it had been minutes ago, tension and uncertainty changing the tone just as they were changing the virulent nature of his eyes. Jiang Wei waited for a response, but there was none – Zhuge Liang was gone, vanished like a cloud into the tide of soldiers changing around them.

Slowly, the young warrior got to his feet, brushing dirt from his knees as his long, thin ponytail careened over one shoulder and lay like leather against his neck. He stood silent as a statue, spear in hand, his brown eyes chasing the wind rippling through the tents on every side of him, searching for a direction in the endless faces of those around him.

Zhao Yun found that he was moving forward, his feet flattening the earth beneath them as he made his way across the campsite toward the abandoned warrior. Jiang Wei looked up at his movement, and Zhao Yun froze, startled by the depth and openness of the eyes that were suddenly staring into his.

A feeling like snow slid down his spine in the form of a soft shiver, but the Little Dragon shook it away, moving forward again until nothing but a matter of steps separated him from the young warrior. Jiang Wei straightened, his back stiffening as one hand rose to chase his bangs away. The silence stretched between them like a glass ribbon, the eyes of each man daring the other to speak first. And at last Zhao Yun obliged, bowing his head as something that felt like a sunflower began unleashing its petals within him.

"My name is Zhao Yun Zilong. May I ask yours?"

Jiang Wei smiled, his expression brushing one of the newly open petals against the Little Dragon's lungs. The young warrior nodded, his eyes tracing the older man's features as though studying a ray of sunlight out of an overcast sky.

"Jiang Wei, styled Boyue. I am honored to meet you."