A/N: So, this is not how the Dragon's Pulse works, nope, I don't think so...but this grabbed me and would not let go.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
"Touch"
"Tell us something, Lan Fan," says Emperor Yao when his black-clad shadow materialises behind him on the balcony, "which of our ministers is going to be the first to propose marriage to us today?"
They are well past the stage where she would protest his seeking her opinion. She gives a shrug he feels in her qi and replies, "Your Majesty has been emperor for over five years now. While you have successfully absorbed a number of the clans by giving them positions in government and trade opportunities your reign will never be secure until you have someone to succeed you. Immortality is not an option."
They both feel the stirring of the souls in the philosopher's stone she still wears around her neck. Emperor Yao shakes off the sensation and his irritation at her response with a flex of his shoulders, and says, "That is not what we asked."
He feels the sigh in her qi though her tone is indifferent when she replies, "Minister Zheng. Their clan's wife failed to provide the last emperor with an heir and candidate for the throne. He feels that his position is less secure than the others so he will request that your Majesty take this wife for your first."
Emperor Yao turns to her then, lifting an eyebrow, and says, "She's old enough to be our mother."
"She's still young enough to bear children," says Lan Fan.
He takes a deep breath and just catches his guard's scent on the wind. There is nothing girly there, just fresh linen, the oil of her automail arm and gunpowder. She must have been up late making bombs. Her qi is steady though, alert, searching. He replies, "We will not have children just to see them kill each other for our throne."
He has repeated that line so many times that it has become a mantra. She does not react, but waits for him to continue. After a moment he says, "Come, stand with me."
She goes at once to the balcony and looks out at the scene unfolding below. The ladies of the seraglio are having a picnic. While Emperor Yao has not yet taken an official wife he has assembled a small collection of concubines since his coronation, each of them as gifts. They are all beautiful little things, well-versed in the art of entertaining, stimulating conversation and seduction. Even from the third floor balcony, they can smell the perfumes the women have been bathed in, a lovely bouquet to help the young emperor relax. She asks, "Is there something I'm meant to see?"
"Your honoured uncle and mother have recently sought the services of a matchmaker," he says.
Stunned, she swings around to look at him and sputters, "W-what?"
He continues without looking at her, his gaze on the ladies below, "We have been reliably informed that the favourite is a young soldier who has recently joined the imperial guard. You may have seen him from time to time."
Lan Fan is still in shock. Her qi spikes nervously, trembles, all sharp edges and the promise of violence and pain. Too much yang, her qi has ever always been filled with too much yang. He reaches for it with his own, a little secret he learned on becoming emperor, and waits. The effect is like a blanket, gently softening and smothering her qi until she calms, settles and recovers enough to ask, "When?"
He shrugs, unconcerned. Her qi still trembles against his, her barely suppressed rage just under the surface. He says, "We will be receiving General Mustang in a few weeks to discuss the matter of the cultural exchange programme the Elric brothers have been spearheading. We expect dissent, some of it violent. We cannot be expected to be without our guard." There will be no further discussion of the matter. By the end of the day the matchmaker will be sent on his way and forgotten.
As for the intended suitor, well, there are so many opportunities for ambitious types outside of the Imperial City.
Her relief is palpable, infectious; he has to retreat to avoid the influence. That is the danger of going too close to another's qi, the effect runs both ways. In fact, he had been completely unaware of the extent and nature of her feelings for him until he learned the secret of the Dragon's Pulse. He had been so stunned that he had foolishly confronted her about it. It had taken well over a week to convince her to forgive him and return to his side. Now he treads lightly, going only as far. She still dislikes it. There is a flash of irritation again in his wake as he withdraws.
Feeling mischievous, he spreads his qi around her again and presses down. It proves to be a mistake. She gasps surprised, eyes wide, mouth opened, and then she moans.
His jesting ends immediately, his mouth falling open as his eyes go wide. Lan Fan goes crimson and drops to a full kowtow before the emperor and cries, "Forgive this one's insolence, Master! This one has disgraced herself! This one begs His Majesty's leave so that—"
"What did it feel like?" he asked, cutting her off. He feels no offense at her response just…curiosity. "When I pushed against your qi just now, what did it feel like?"
She keeps her head down and for a while does not reply. But he feels the answer in her qi to which he is still connected, the tremors of a slow descent from ecstasy. He wonders if it is wrong that the realisation that he did that to her without touching her makes him immensely pleased. Then she says, "Like a caress…as if Master had been touching me with his hands…everywhere…"
All that the emperor can think at that moment is, oh dear. Then it becomes, oh no, as he remembers what she once confessed to him.
When he looks over at her again, Lan Fan is still looking at the floor, though now she sits up clutching her arms to her sides. He does not have to dip into her qi to know that she is ashamed.
The way he sees it, he now has two choices. Either he can deflect with some off-handed remark, some inane question, maybe even some poor and apparently oblivious joke about trying that again sometime with his hands…or he can take advantage of her momentary weakness for personal gain. And he did not become the homunculus Greed for nothing.
Turning his back to her, he pretends to look down into the garden and says, "There is nothing to forgive. It is my fault. I did not know how it would affect you and I went ahead without thinking. I am sorry."
"Your Majesty does not need to apologise to his vassal. It is I who should have had more control," says Lan Fan. He can hear the half-scold in her response. But this is the answer he has been waiting for.
He takes a quick look around. There is no one nearby and the concubines are mostly unaware of his presence. Without turning to look at her, he reaches into the Pulse again, spreads his qi and presses. She gasps, surprised and then there it is, the feeling of ecstasy, though she fights it and him and tries to hold back. He keeps the pressure though, until the dam bursts and she moans again and the emperor lets out a breath he did not realise he was holding. But he keeps up the connection and so feels her fury before she snaps, in a low, harsh whisper, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Not much," he replies, placing his hands on the railing. "Just testing a theory." Despite the steadiness of his tone his hands are shaking.
"A theory?" she grinds out through clenched teeth. It is a lovely sound coming from her mouth and makes him wonder what else he could manage. Well before she forgets herself and puts that elbow blade through his back.
"I...am so very greedy, Lan Fan...I want to have something that I cannot. I've been told that I must not touch you and yet...I did not touch you then." He does not turn to look at her. He wonders how long it will take her to figure out what he just implied.
She scampers away from him, pressing her back into the wall. Her voice is filled with anguish as she protests, "You must not! You know...you can't."
Ling releases his hands from the balcony, turns back to look at her and said, "But I have not touched you." He closes his eyes to relish the feeling of her ecstasy. It sets his heart racing, his blood hot and suddenly he is aware of nothing else but her. She should have told him before of her feelings. She should not have told him that it was not meant to be.
He opens his eyes again and she puts her chin up and says, "No." And then she disappears.
He wants to cry out in frustration. He wants to chase after her but for his robes and the other guards and the concubines below. She has not gone far though, for he senses her above in the shadow of the roof. He knows that he can still reach her through the Pulse even if it would invoke her ire. And then, just when he is about to give up, he feels a ripple in her qi that brushes against his senses like a caress. He is so stunned, he gasps. He never expected her to reciprocate. He cannot quite believe that she has. He looks up at the roof line where he knows she is hiding and smiles.