Cold Moon, Bright Star

By bloodredrosez aka ElvenDestiNy

August 26, 2017

(A very long) Author's Note: Sorry for the wait! So as I mentioned in my profile here, I sort of have a plan now about PA fanfiction. Cold Moon, Bright Star is going to continue as a series of one shots that will fill out the story from the drama and develop their relationship more. In other words, it's not really a chaptered story, but instead a series of short stories where I'm following roughly the same timeline as the drama. I guess you can think of these as semi-independent "missing scenes," which I realize doesn't sound that exciting, but I wanted to see how I feel about writing for PA (and of course how you guys feel about my writing) before committing to a long story. But if all goes well, I'll write an actual story that starts from the end of the drama, so basically like a second season.

Also important, the last "chapter" took place around the time of uncut episodes 14-16. This one is set around episodes 17-18, just before Xing'er overhears Yuwen Zhuo talking about how Yuwen Yue is just using her as a sacrificial spy. I don't want to spend that much time rehashing things already happened in the drama, so I might refer to events but I'll try not to just rewrite the scenes, otherwise that would be boring for everyone. You might also notice that I use Xing'er but will eventually switch to Chu Qiao. After Ep. 17 she already knows her name, but since Yuwen Yue doesn't know yet, I'll use Xing'er to keep things consistent, at least for now.


Lessons of the Heart


The first time Yan Xun visited him just to try to convince him to sell Xing'er, Yuwen Yue had been more amused than irritated. His little maid was like a field mouse attracting the attention of all the hungry raptors. Later on, when Yan Xun brought the topic up again, Yuwen Yue had played along and pretended to actually consider it. After all, did the prince really want a little wildcat? He told him that Xing'er was a magnet for danger (true), not obedient enough (also true), and more trouble than she was worth (definitely true). Yan Xun had just grinned and replied that it all just added to her charm.

Given that, Yuwen Yue should have seen it coming. His reckless friend had helped Prince Yuan Song take Xing'er away from the manor—and straight into danger. He still fumed over that one. He had shot one of his precious ice arrows to help Xing'er fend off her mysterious attackers, but that was not what had bothered him. It had unsettled him to realize that he cared so much.

He found the whole situation much less amusing now that Yan Xun seemed to have no intention of hiding his obvious interest in Xing'er, whether to her or to everyone else. Didn't Yan Xun realize that showing such extraordinary interest in a maid was only going to bring trouble to her? Even the biggest, most unobservant idiot in the emperor's court knew that Chun'er had her heart set on Yan Xun, her childhood crush only getting worse as they all grew up—and what the princess wanted, she always got. She had never become malicious as one might expect of someone growing up in the hotbed of petty palace rivalries, but there was no denying that she was spoiled and capricious. That was part of the reason why, despite having known her since childhood, Yuwen Yue found her rather insufferable. He really did not know how Yan Xun even put up with her antics to the extent that he did.

Now, with Yan Xun before him again, Yuwen Yue's patience was near its end. While the prince was one of the few people he considered a friend, the Yuwen family's secrets would always keep them in two different spheres. Yuwen Yue couldn't afford to be like the other young nobles of the Emperor's court, not with the enormous responsibility of the Eyes of God on him. Xing'er, for better or for worse, was part of that secret now that she was one of his spies.

"When are you going to give up and just give her to me?" Yan Xun hovered besides Yuwen Yue even as the latter studiously ignored him in favor of the mountains of documents on his desk he still had to go through. Now more than ever, it was crucial for him to sort rumor from truth, regarding the intentions and activities of both the Emperor and the Duke of Yanbei.

Undeterred by his friend's silence, Yan Xun continued. "Really now, you have dozens of maids. What's one more to you? You won't even notice she's gone."

Both of them knew that it was a massive understatement. Yuwen Yue narrowed his eyes. "I already said no. It isn't going to happen." He stopped himself before he added more, unnecessary words like she's mine hovering on his tongue.

Yan Xun seemed a little surprised at the bite to his tone, but he settled himself into the chair facing Yuwen Yue, making it clear that he wasn't done with the subject. "You know that you should set her free. She's too good to spend the rest of her life as a slave."

"You'd rather she spend the rest of her life as your concubine in Yanbei?" Yuwen Yue shot back, the memory of seeing Xing'er talking to Yan Xun about that very possibility still fresh in his mind. Immediately he regretted his impulsive words.

"If it makes her happy, then why not?" came the almost equally heated reply. "I told you before, she's like me. She's like an eagle of the mountain steppes, not a pretty decorative bird meant to be kept in a gilded cage."

To Yan Xun, the hostage prince of Yan Bei, all of Chang'an was his gilded cage. Even though Yuwen Yue felt a pang of sympathy, hearing Yan Xun argue for Xing'er and imply that she would willingly be his mistress just irritated him too much. Of course he thought she was worth more than a slave, he had chosen to make her into a valuable spy—not than Yan Xun knew that.

"This is where she belongs," Yuwen Yue said at last, choosing to keep it simple. "She has no intention of leaving, nor would I let her."

"Really? That wasn't what she told me." Seeing the slight change in his friend's expression—which spoke volumes—Yan Xun changed tact. "Think about it, if you were a slave, wouldn't you spend every breath thinking about freedom?"

"We are all born under the hand of fate," was the cool reply. "We all have our place in life. The strong do what they want and the weak will suffer as they must. What matters in the end is survival and safety, and I will ensure both for her."

Yan Xun shook his head. "Such a bleak outlook on life, as always. Maybe instead of calling you the ice cube, Chun'er should call you the grand pessimist."

As a matter of fact, Yuwen Yue did have much more serious things on his mind these days, as should Yan Xun. "Instead of spending so much time worrying about where Xing'er is, maybe you should return to Yan Bei yourself," he said shortly. "These are unsettled times and a little thing could set off a chain reaction that might end in disaster."

His advice was borderline treason; he was telling the Emperor's hostage to leave. Indeed, Yan Xun's actions themselves could become the catalyst for war. But from all reports and from his own audiences before the Emperor, Yuwen Yue felt certain that war was imminent anyway. Through his spies, he knew that the woman from Yanbei, Zhong Yu, would have told Yan Xun much the same.

Yan Xun stared across the desk at him. "What do you know?"

Yuwen Yue only repeated what he had told Yan Xun before. "Unless you want to take Chun'er as your wife and remain in Chang'an forever, you should go visit your family. Return to Yanbei, Yan Xun. That is where you truly belong."

Years later, he would still remember the exact details of this conversation and wonder if he should have said more. If he had truly not done enough to save his friend. If all of what came after, in the hindsight of perfect clarity, had really started here, in this very moment. If he had been more direct, would it have changed anything? If Yan Xun had returned to Yan Bei, he almost certainly would have died with his family, rather than becoming their last hope of vengeance. Would that have been better or worse for all the people caught in the middle of a senseless war? How might the fate of hundred thousands more lives have been changed?


* O * O * O *


Ever the pragmatist, Yuwen Yue went to personally oversee his newest spy's training. With his conversation with Yan Xun fresh on his mind, he could not help but think that the coming years were uncertain and Xing'er was…unprepared. He told himself to leave it at that.

Even with her prodigious progress in martial arts, she was not ready for more. Her mistake in getting trapped underground had proven it. He stubbornly ignored the fact that he had been the one who had been sickened and weakened by their time underground—after all, he had only been trapped there because he had been saving her.

It was cold in the practice courtyard, empty except for Xing'er. The seasons were changing from fall to winter and the leaves on the tree were in turn becoming russet and gold, rustling faintly in the wind. Soon, the water would be glazed with a thin layer of frost. It should be a time for warm hearths and fires, not a time for war.

She was so focused on her training, she hadn't noticed him observing her yet. Her form was good, with a natural grace to it. She moved like someone who had trained for martial arts from a young age. Although he didn't know her real identity, as soon as he found out—and others did as well—he reasoned that she would be in even more danger. The best time for her enemies to take her out would be while she still couldn't remember her past and therefore couldn't recognize her enemies or defend herself against them.

That was why, Yuwen Yue told himself, he had given her the legendary Can Hong sword. Not because, as the annoying merchant Zuo had wildly assumed, it was the counterpart to his own. He brushed aside his misgivings that Grandfather, already suspicious of his highly unusual maid, would hear of it and take it as another sign that his grandson had become emotionally attached. After all, he had reasoned, it suited Xing'er well and it was a waste of potential to keep it in storage. He tried not to remember her expression when he had presented it to her, that look of surprise turning into a warm appreciation.

Without warning, he suddenly attacked her, wanting to take her off guard. To his own surprise, she swiftly dodged his attack—apparently she had known he had been there and watching her the entire time. The wind blew back the stray strands of hair away from her face and he realized she had probably identified him by scent as soon as he had arrived.

"Did the show please you, Young Master?" she asked impudently, confirming his suspicions.

Maybe too much, he thought as he engaged her in the fight, always two or three steps ahead, anticipating her every move to maneuver her into position. Finally, he disarmed her with one quick move, leaving her off balance as he simultaneously used his weight and greater strength to leverage her into an unintended flip. She slammed onto the ground, flat on her back, as he casually leaned over her with the edge of his sword just close enough to her throat to emphasize his point.

"You were too easily distracted." Even though she had trained diligently and had really shown no such inclination, he couldn't resist needling her. "Are you trying to show off for me?"

She looked up at him wide-eyed. Then she lowered her gaze in that infuriatingly fake submission that made him want to reach out to tilt her chin up again. "That only worked because the Young Master is much bigger and heavier than me. I am just a maid," she answered sweetly.

Meanwhile she ignored his hand and got up by herself, dusting off her skirts and retrieving Can Hong.

"You will always be fighting against enemies who are bigger, stronger, and heavier than you," he told her. "You need to get used to it."

She nodded once, listening to him carefully as she always did, even when he could tell she was secretly hating him for putting her through so much pain. "And don't use that line about 'just being a maid' on me anymore, you're my spy now," he added as an afterthought.

They sparred four more times, with similar end results. After the third time—she still refused to let him help her up—she got up and then sat back down, wincing as if her ankle bothered her. He could tell it was only a delaying tactic as she got her breath back; it irked him to realize that she was playing on his sympathy and that, despite knowing it was a ruse, he still gave her the extra few minutes.

No real attacker would do that, he reminded himself. He couldn't be soft on her. He stood over her and looked down with a stern expression. "Are you worthy of the sword I gave you? If you are disarmed so easily, you might as well gift the weapon to your opponent."

She stared back at him, eyes practically glowing with defiance. A little wild hellcat, indeed. "I've figured out how to stop you from disarming me each time, but you keep changing to a new tactic. You're not giving me a chance to show you what I've learned."

"Of course," he answered. "That's the point of training. You can't ever rely on your opponent to hold back their hand, even if you usually consider them a friend."

Except she didn't consider him a friend in the first place, so he stumbled over his words. They were lord and servant, spymaster and spy, master and slave, but definitely not friends. "What I mean is, even when you have the skills to fight or kill someone, you must have the right mentality to do it. When you really need to fight someone in real life, don't think that they will see you as human. Your life means nothing to them. Look at how your older sister died."

He closed his mouth so fast his teeth almost clicked. What under heaven had possessed him to say that? It had been on his mind recently as he had considered what little he could do to curb the atrocious appetites of his uncle. He had only meant that he didn't want her to become an easy victim like her sister, like his own mother, but she looked as if he had slapped her.

She got to her feet, her gaze still trained on him with unwavering focus. Her voice came out perfectly calm and clear but he could hear the pain beneath her words. "You let those girls be sent to Ji Le Pavilion knowing that they will be raped and murdered by Yuwen Xi. You have the status and the strength to protect the weak, but you don't. Is that the mentality you are trying to teach me?"

He thought of and discarded many answers as she waited for his response, the silence dragging on, whatever was between them turning hard and cruel. Any explanation would only sound like an excuse for the loss she had suffered. "You overestimate my power," he said finally, leaving it at that.

"Do I?" she asked bitterly. "We stand here face to face but we live in two different worlds. My older sister died because she sacrificed herself for me. Perhaps those of you who use humans as pawns and slaves as prey in hunting games cannot even grasp the concept."

"Xing-er—" he did not know what he would have said, but it didn't matter.

"Why are you training me like this?" she interrupted him. "You could have put Yue Qi in charge of my training instead of doing it yourself. You spent time showing me the technique for your special ice arrow, you taught me to read and write, you personally taught me more than half of my lessons."

Again, he couldn't quite answer her. Why was he training her like this? Just to use her as a spy, as he had told Grandfather? Some small part of him stubbornly saw her as an equal, despite the vast gulf that existed between them in virtually every way, and wanted to nurture that potential. But more than that, he was undeniably drawn to her. Yes, there was physical attraction there; he had recently all too often woken up from dreams where she had become every part his bedchamber maid in reality. Yes, she was remarkably beautiful and intelligent, if undereducated; it was easy to see why she had captured the attention of highborn princes like Yan Xun or Yuan Song, even if it was just a fleeting interest on their parts.

But there were dozens of more beautiful and more intelligent ladies, dozens upon dozens of more suitable women. He could have his pick of them and yet there was only one who looked back at him like that, her spirit so bright and pure that he wanted to make sure nothing could tarnish it. Despite all she had suffered, much of it resulting from what he had done with his own hands, she still had such a sense of purpose—such an unwavering belief that she could fight against the world's injustice.

With that very same relentlessness, she now confronted him, the words pouring out in a rush. "Why bother giving private lessons to one worthless little maid, even if I've become your greenest, weakest spy? My life means nothing to you."

She waited for an answer, standing so close to him that he could see the glossiness of her eyes, the unshed tears. Were they from anger? Disappointment? It shouldn't matter what she thought of him, but he couldn't bring himself to let her walk away thinking what she had said was true. He swallowed hard, the need to comfort her shredding what little control he had left after her accusations.

"Your life should mean nothing to me," he replied in a low voice. "But it does. Xing'er, you are more than a slave to me. You are more than a maid, and more than a just spy to me…" He couldn't say more.

Unable to meet her expression or bear her silence any longer, he reached out and drew her to him, arms closing around her in an awkward, impulsive embrace. She was so soft and so small in his arms, despite her strength.

"Yuwen Yue…" she said, shocked enough at his actions to forget to address him properly. His name sounded muffled against his shoulder.

For a moment he thought she might push him away, her arms lifting between them, but instead he felt them come around his back. She gently rested her head against his chest, as if just briefly she could let go of the weariness and grief she carried around constantly. The silver bells that adorned her hair chimed gently and he wondered if she could hear his heart pounding beneath the press of her cheek. He felt, rather than heard her exhale slowly, and for the very first time since he had met her, she let her guard down as she became pliant in his arms.

Later, he would examine his own actions with disbelief. Much, much later, as months and then years passed, he would wonder sometimes if he had dreamed it all, that surreal moment in the practice courtyard with the cold wind whispering through the tree leaves. He would wonder if even then, she had been plotting to take her revenge on Yuwen Xi a few nights later and to flee for Yan Bei with Yan Xun. He would wonder if she had been somehow playing him skillfully all along, or if she merely thought they were both using each other, nothing genuine between them.

But in that moment, when she looked up at him with those eyes full of mysteries and feelings running too deep, he hadn't been himself. For the first time in his life he hadn't been Yuwen Yue, prodigal heir of the Eyes of God, spymaster and advisor to the Emperor, the only young lord in the empire trying to avert a fast coming war in the only ways he knew how. Nor had she been a slave girl with an unknown past, intent on revenge even at the probable cost of her own life. He had just been a young man, and she had just been a young woman.

So he drew back to look at her, drinking in her every expression and look as a man dying of thirst might. He committed to memory every breath and heartbeat between them, and then leaned down and kissed her. Her lips were warm, and sweet, and he kissed her more and deeply when her hesitant surprise melted into an eager, willing response.

Xing'er trembled in his arms, her hands clutching at the heavy fabric of his robe across his shoulders, and heat bloomed between them. She finally tore herself away with a soft gasp and Yuwen Yue let her go, feeling just as dazed and stunned as she appeared to be. He had never expected that she would reciprocate like this—but that was the problem, wasn't it? He hadn't been thinking at all. He had simply done what his heart had told him to do.

Their eyes met as she raised her fingertips to her mouth as if in disbelief at the lingering sensations from their kiss. He tried to clear his expression, certain that he looked as raw and out of control as he felt, but the calm, cool façade he usually presented to the world was beyond his abilities to summon.

She regained her composure before he did, drawing a sharp breath and stepping farther away from him, putting a normal amount of distance between them. The only sound in the courtyard, thankfully still deserted except for the two of them, was the rustling of the leaves in the breeze.

"This never happened," she whispered. She retreated even more, her hand on her sword now as if she wished she could draw it against him.

"Xing'er, wait…" He would have commanded her to stop and listen, but her expression made him fall silent. She looked at him with such a mixture of fear, anger, disgust and even loathing.

"This never happened," she stated again, as cold and clear as he should have been, daring him to dispute it. It was as effective as ice water. He acceded with a short nod and as soon as she began to walk away, he turned and left so he did not have to see her leave him.

Yuwen Yue did not know it then, but it would be the last time they trained together, the last private lesson he gave her. That night, she would prepare his bed and pour tea for him, both of them too aware of each other and trying too hard to be nothing more than master and slave.

A few nights later, she would complete her revenge by killing Yuwen Xi and pinning the blame on him. Things would never be the same again. He learned his lesson, too: that the heart deceives, the heart pretends, and yet above all else, the heart does not forget.


FIN

* O * O * O *


A/N: So, the third short story will be posted in a week, hopefully. I just adore the XingYue song (The Stars and Moon) in the Princess Agents OST, so I listen to it as I write. (To be completely honest, the Three Worlds, Three Lives, Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms OST is my favorite for music inspiration although I've never even watched the drama.) I'm really trying to write quickly but as I mentioned in my profile, I'm really busy right now. I do get notifications for comments but for whatever reason private messages don't always come through, so my apologies if I missed responding to someone.

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