the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break

by Rose Thorne

Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with The Untamed, and make no money writing fanfiction.


Chapter Seven

Though at first their teeth collide a few times, Lan Wangji discovers that kissing, as with anything else, is a skill one can improve with practice. He is startled a bit when Wei Ying opens his mouth to deepen the kiss, but he finds the sensation of his tongue against his own more than enjoyable.

He finds it even more enjoyable to be able to finally give attention to the mole under his lip that has taunted him all these years. Wei Ying seems to realize his focus because he laughs, joyous and breathless and beautiful.

Lan Wangji hooks his arm around Wei Ying to pull him closer, but he freezes at his pained hiss.

Of course; Wei Ying was injured by Wen Ning, and likely hurt himself last night falling to the hard cave floor in his haste to escape the dog spirit.

As much as he would prefer to continue this, Lan Wangji forces himself to stop. He can't help but remember Wei Ying's reminder that their union hasn't been consummated, and that doesn't make it easier. He has, after all, been waiting since he was fifteen.

"You are injured," he says softly, sitting. "And malnourished."

Wei Ying pouts, but doesn't protest vocally or move to get up, which tells Lan Wangji he truly is in pain, and judging from the way his eyelids are drooping, absolutely in need of more sleep.

"I will meditate here, and we will have breakfast together when you wake. We should also discuss my brother's impending visit."

"Ah, I guess you want to tell him we're married, then?" Wei Ying says with a sigh. "Can we at least ask him to keep quiet about it until after shijie's wedding? She deserves better than to have her happy day overshadowed."

Lan Wangji has not, in fact, thought yet of how he will tell his brother he married Wei Ying all those years ago and neglected to tell him. But he does agree that the news should not detract from the marriage of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, though he disagrees with the idea that the their marriage could be a dark thing.

"Agreed, but…"

He pauses, considering how to say what comes next, how not to risk driving Wei Ying away again.

"Please consider telling my brother you no longer have a golden core, if not the circumstances," Lan Wangji finally says.

He is relieved when Wei Ying doesn't pull away, only grimaces, but his relief is short-lived.

"You think he's more apt to help if he knows I'm broken," he whispers.

Lan Wangji feels his jaw drop, horror rising as he realizes just how deeply Wei Ying's self-loathing goes. He wishes he could assure him of his own worth, but he also knows it will take time to convince him. But this, he knows, is his fault. He did not help Wei Ying until he knew the truth, when he should have helped from the beginning, should have trusted him.

Does Wei Ying believe he pities him? The idea chafes.

"You are not broken," he tells him, "and certainly not simply by virtue of being without a golden core."

Wei Ying snorts derisively.

"Then what am I? A cultivator who can only cultivate on the crooked path?"

Lan Wangji gently pulls Wei Ying closer until he's pillowed in his lap, until he can look at him directly, if upside down.

"Wei Ying is Wei Ying. You need be nothing more."

His zhiji looks away, his eyes shining in the dim candlelight. Lan Wangji feels helpless in the face of his despondency, knows he is in part the cause.

"I haven't even told Jiang Cheng. He's going to be so angry."

He understands; the secret involves his brother, and he has a duty to tell him first, regardless of how long it will be before he sees him next. Wei Ying's public break with the Jiang clan makes that uncertain, and it is not the sort of revelation that would be appropriate in a letter. In fact, if it were known he sent a letter to Jiang Cheng at all, problems could arise.

Perhaps Xichen could send one on their behalf, though, asking Jiang Cheng to at least visit in secret.

"I will tell no one, Wei Ying. Not even xiongzhang, if you do not wish it. But… eventually you will no longer be able to hide it."

Lan Wangji strokes Wei Ying's cheek, hating to have to think about or reference the inevitability of his mortality. Hating that it is an inevitability.

"I ask only that you consider it, nothing more. I will honor whatever decision you make."

Wei Ying doesn't reply, instead curls closer, shifts until his face is hidden against Lan Wangji's side, his arms around his waist, his body further in his lap.

"You are not broken," he repeats, running his hand through Wei Ying's hair. "You are beautiful and honorable."

He wishes the rest of the world could see Wei Ying as he does.

In the silence, he has little to focus on, noting the brittleness of his hair, how it seems as unhealthy as the rest of Wei Ying. But Lan Wangji has never had much opportunity to touch him this way—after Xuanwu and when he fell after Wen Ruohan's death notwithstanding.

Neither are pleasant memories, particularly the latter. The image of Wen Ruohan dangling Wei Ying by the throat over the steps of Nightless City still fills him with dread. He was certain then he was about to witness his zhiji's death, to watch his neck snapped, to see him tossed aside like a broken doll.

Afterward, in the days he was unconscious, watching the bruises around his throat fade slowly, fearing he may never wake again as his spiritual energy did not seem to be recovering… It did not recover, but it was not, as he suspected then, due to demonic cultivation.

Lan Wangji wishes he realized sooner. He will always wish that he somehow was able to help Wei Ying more, will always feel the sting of having failed him for so long.

Wei Ying's breathing evens slowly as he falls asleep, and Lan Wangji matches his breathing. Though he has never attempted meditation with someone in his lap, his zhiji's presence is soothing, and he slips into the necessary trance easily.

He slips out of it just as easily a couple hours later when he hears footsteps approaching their chamber of the cave. From the sound, very short legs, the pace puttering against the stone and dirt of the cave.

Lan Wangji is unsurprised when A-Yuan enters. The child surveys them quietly for a moment.

"Xian-gege sad?" he finally asks.

Only then does Lan Wangji remember that Wei Ying is asleep in his lap, arms still twined around his waist.

"Mn," he says with a nod.

Because despite Wei Ying's happiness at his insistence that he indeed wanted to be married to him, his request regarding his brother upset him. And it had taken far too much convincing for his liking for Wei Ying to believe he was worthy of him.

"Hugs make me feel better when I'm sad," the child says. "I can hug Xian-gege, too."

Lan Wangji nods again, and A-Yuan toddles over and chooses the most expedient way to deliver a hug: flopping onto Wei Ying and then hugging him.

He resists the urge to scold the child when Wei Ying wakes with a pained grunt, and instead lifts A-Yuan off, settling him on one knee.

"Ah, A-Yuan, be careful," Wei Ying murmurs, his voice a bit strained. "You're getting big."

"Xian-gege needed hugs. And gugu said you need to wake up for breakfast. And popo said you're too skinny."

"Popo always says that."

Wei Ying winces when he sits up, which lets Lan Wangji know Wen Qing should examine him. He hopes he will not injure as easily once he's in better health.

"She is not wrong, Wei Ying."

He pulls a face in response, but can't help but laugh when A-Yuan imitates him.

"All right, all right. Let's go eat."

Lan Wangji is relieved when Wei Ying doesn't need help getting up, though he doubts very much he would ask if he did. He carries A-Yuan with them, and the boy seems content with being carried.

"I did not inquire yesterday about bathing facilities," he comments as they make their way to the communal area.

Wei Ying laughs shortly.

"'Bathing facilities.' You're so proper. We have a river, Lan Zhan. That and basins and rags. That's about it right now."

The river was practical, but not in the long term. Perhaps that was something to address with Wen Qing, then, whether tubs could be purchased. Before winter, when bathing in a river would be less than ideal.

"I know you're used to better, but I'll show you where later today," Wei Ying says. "Honestly, I'm probably overdue for a wash myself."

"Xian-gege stinky?"

Wei Ying drops back to tickle A-Yuan.

"Stinky, eh? You just wait, stinky radish. I'm sure your gugu will want us to give you a bath, too."

"A-Yuan not stinky!" the boy squeals with a giggle.

Wei Ying darts in and makes a show of smelling him.

"Oh, my little radish is ripe. It's almost time to pick him and cook him up for dinner!"

"No cook A-Yuan!" he shrieks, still giggling, as they enter the communal area.

"Oh? Should we sell the little radish at market instead?"

"Noooooo! Gugu, tell Xian-gege!"

Wen Qing scowls at Wei Ying, but it's without heat, a sort of play-acting likely affected for A-Yuan's amusement.

"I swear sometimes you're a child yourself," she mutters.

"Xianxian is three," Wei Ying sings with a grin.

"Brat," she says, rolling her eyes, her voice fond.

They're a family here, Lan Wangji has come to see. The closeness of their relationships brings light to the darkness of the Burial Mounds. He is glad they have been there for his zhiji when he has not.

Wei Ying winces when he settles on one of the seats and Wen Qing's sharp gaze catches it. She looks between them with an expression that looks far too amused, and despite the fact that her assumption is incorrect, Lan Wangji can feel his ears heat.

"Dog spirit," he explains. "Wei Ying fell."

Wen Qing's expression shifts to concern. It's clear she knows of Wei Ying's phobia.

"The damn thing came back again?"

Lan Wangji glances at Wei Ying—he didn't mention it had bothered him on previous occasions.

"Bad dog," A-Yuan contributes.

"Lan Zhan eliminated it this time," Wei Ying says, avoiding both their gazes.

Wen Qing shoots him a grateful look.

"Last time he knocked into the cave wall and almost broke his nose," she tells him. "Hopefully all he's got this time is a few bruises, but at least it won't be back."

She turns her attention back to Wei Ying.

"I'll examine you after breakfast to be sure. Cooperate or I'll make you."

"Aiya, no needles, Qing-jie! No need to bully me."

Wei Ying grabs A-Yuan from Lan Wangji's lap to use as a shield. The boy just giggles, like this is a common occurrence. Knowing his propensity for dramatics, it probably is.

"A-Ning is giving you double portions today," Wen Qing continues, ignoring his antics. "And I'll trust Hanguang-Jun to make sure you're not feeding it to A-Yuan. He's getting plenty, too, and we have radishes ready to harvest in a few days so we'll be fine with food for a little while at least."

She glares at him when he looks like he might protest.

"You're unhealthy and everyone is worried about you. Popo was encouraging me to use needles and find a way to shove it down your throat earlier. Don't think I won't resort to that."

Wei Ying, thankfully, takes her seriously enough to behave throughout breakfast. He eats enough that even popo, who seats herself at their table and manages to look both sweet and intimidating throughout the meal, seems satisfied.

True to her threat, Wen Qing has popo take charge of A-Yuan and drags a lightly protesting Wei Ying back to the Demon Subduing Cave to be examined. Lan Wangji hesitates, but follows at his zhiji's pleading look.

"Sit," Wen Qing orders when they've reached the alcove "I want to make sure you didn't break anything, at least. You have horrid luck. Where did you fall?"

"Shoulder and hip," Wei Ying says with a resigned sigh. "But it's really not—"

He goes silent at her glare, which Lan Wangji has to admit is formidable.

"Don't even," she huffs. "You always lie about your injuries. Strip."

Wei Ying, to Lan Wangji's surprise, actually blushes, glancing at him. Wen Qing takes notice, looking between them.

"Ah, you told him, then?"

She looks almost amused.

"Wait, you told her?"

Lan Wangji almost winces at the bit of hurt in his tone.

"That he's besotted with you? Any fool could tell, except you," Wen Qing snaps.

"I did not tell her," Lan Wangji confirms.

He is a little concerned when a slightly gleeful look passed over Wei Ying's face, replaced with one that is utterly fond.

"So I was the first one you told that you handfasted me when we were sixteen?"

Wen Qing makes a noise that sounds almost like a choke, looking at them uncertainly.

"I did not even tell xiongzhang," he confirms. "I would tell no one without telling you first."

Wei Ying's expression turns to one of adoration, and Lan Wangji starts mentally reciting the Lan principles, as he is sorely tempted to revisit their morning activities.

Wen Qing is still staring at them, and Lan Wangji takes pity, explaining in brief what occurred in the Cold Spring cave, with Wei Ying contributing details. He finishes by explaining the meaning of the forehead ribbons in a wedding ceremony and the bow to Lan Yi as essentially an elopement.

"You're married?" Wen Qing murmurs, her voice hoarse with shock. "Married."

Her gaze turns shrewd.

"Has it been consummated?"

It's Wei Ying's turn to choke.

"Qing-jie!"

Lan Wangji doesn't trust himself to answer verbally and simply shakes his head.

To his surprise, she starts pacing, hands clasped behind her back. He didn't expect her to be someone who paces.

"And you want to be wed, correct?" she asks after a moment.

Wei Ying's "definitely" and Lan Wangji's "of course" are simultaneous.

"Good," she says, her tone surprisingly emphatic, as she turns to them. "So you've had quite an extended engagement, and we can figure out what this idiot gave as courting gifts since you bought A-Yuan toys and provided the Burial Mounds with money. I hate to simplify what is obviously a love match to political terms, but you need to consummate before Zewu-Jun arrives, in anticipation of the question of its validity."

Lan Wangji can feel his ears heating, and Wei Ying's face blushes more fetchingly than before. Wen Qing looks between them, and her brief look of glee is ever more concerning than Wei Ying's was.

"Well, since you're both clearly virgins—"

She ignores the "hey!" from Wei Ying.

"—and I am familiar with all forms of sexual hygiene as a doctor, I'll go ahead and explain exactly what you'll need to do to make it a safe and enjoyable experience."

Wei Ying's jaw drops. Wen Qing gestures for Lan Wangji to sit, and he's honestly grateful to as she starts talking. She brusquely yanks Wei Ying's robes from his shoulder to check his injuries as she does, and Lan Wangji has to avert his gaze from his zhiji's milky skin to avoid reacting to it.

He cannot deny he has thought quite a bit about what he wanted to do with Wei Ying very often almost since first meeting him. Wen Qing's very detailed and blunt explanations make those imaginings far less fuzzy than they were before. She even includes a discussion of aftercare, advising they keep a basin of water and rags nearby for the "mess." By the time she's finished, Wei Ying's very red face is buried in his hands, and Lan Wangji has to avert his gaze as she pulls his trousers away from his hip, revealing the curve of one bruised buttock.

"And I guess I'll have to send Merlin-yi to market for the oil," Wen Qing says as she wraps up both her lecture and her examination. "I'll send a-Ning, too. Even if we can't provide a proper banquet, a marriage deserves celebration. You're family, Wei Wuxian, and we'll do our best."

"Qing-jie," Wei Ying whispers, sounding touched.

She offers him a smile and shoves his robes at him.

"If we could afford red silk, we'd throw a whole wedding. You don't mind the others knowing, right? They'll be very happy for you."

Lan Wangji glances at Wei Ying, careful to keep his eyes on his face—he may be wearing trousers, but he might as well be naked and it's terribly distracting. The look on his face assures him he doesn't mind, so he nods affirmation to Wen Qing.

"It's just some bruising, thankfully," she assures them. "I'd put on salve, but I heard you discussing bathing at the river, so I'll leave that for later. It'd be a waste to apply it twice."

Wei Ying pulls his robes on, still red in the face.

"Right, a bath."

His gaze is shy when he looks at Lan Wangji, who is trying to imagine how they'll get through bathing together without engaging in some of the activities described by Wen Qing.

Some of that thought must have been apparent to Wei Ying, because his face flushed again.

Wen Qing snorts.

"Not so shameless after all, are you? We'll be sure to give the river a wide berth."

Wei Ying's response is to hide his face in his hands again.

"We will bathe separately," Lan Wangji states, pulling Wei Ying to his feet.

Wen Qing just laughs at them.

When they reach the river, which is a short trek from the settlement, Lan Wangji insists Wei Ying bathe first, pulling the fragrant soaps he uses for his body and hair from is qiankun pouch for him to use. He knows they are likely a luxury, and he is happy to share it with him.

He plays his guqin while his zhiji bathes, starting with "WuJi" and moving into "Cleansing," infusing the latter with spiritual energy. He is pleased when the resentful energy in the area eases, and hopes it helps Wei Ying as well.

When Wei Ying returns, clad in fresh robes, he takes his own turn to bathe. The water is chilly, but not inordinately so in the summer heat. He is pleased when the notes of a dizi fill the air, playing "WuJi" as well. Though he composed the song with the guqin in mind, the rendition Wei Ying plays on Chenqing is lovely. Lan Wangji is glad it has brought him comfort.

The notes shift into what he recognizes as "Plum-Blossom in Three Movements," a song he rather likes but didn't know Wei Ying knew. Lan Wangji has heard xiongzhang play it on the xiao and can play it on the guqin, though it was originally composed for the dizi. But he shouldn't be surprised; Wei Ying is a master of the six arts and has displayed such with references to literature and poetry even in his playful moments.

The plum blossom is an apt symbol for the resilience of life on the Burial Mounds and for Wei Ying, who always endured despite the hardships he faced. Perhaps the song is an expression of Wei Ying's hope, his faith in Lan Wangji. He wants to give his zhiji hope, longs to ease his hardships.

When he has finished and dressed in fresh robes, he rejoins Wei Ying and asks if he may comb his hair.

He uses his own sandalwood scented oil, giving it the proper treatment.

Wei Ying is swaying slightly when he finishes, the pampering lulling him nearly to sleep. Lan Wangji longs to style his hair, to put it in the Gusu Lan style as though Wei Ying was marrying into his clan. But he is not, and so he refrains.

Instead he brushes the hair from the nape of his neck, leaning forward to brush his lips against the soft hair there.

Wei Ying shivers and turns to him, pulling him in for a proper kiss before taking the comb and hair oil from him to return the favor.

Lan Wangji didn't expect the sensuality of his husband brushing his hair—husband. They're married. Wei Ying's deft fingers make short work of his tangles, gently spread oil to treat his hair, grazing his scalp in blossoms of sensation, love in every touch.

Wei Ying braids his hair, his fingers weaving the locks with care, and Lan Wangji lets him. He is not in Cloud Recesses, not required to wear his hair in Gusu Lan style. When it is finished he turns to see a flourish of red, Wei Ying having used his own ribbon to tie off the braid.

And so it is natural to braid his hair in return, to weave the sacred ribbon that usually rests on his forehead in his hair, leaving the cloud symbol at the top, adorning the top of the braid like a jewel.

"Your forehead ribbon?" Wei Ying asks, startled, when he catches sight of the very pale blue ribbon tying his hair off.

Lan Wangji cups his cheek in his hand, moving forward until their noses are almost touching.

"Airen, you may touch it."

A soft smile blossoms on Wei Ying's face, and he rests his forehead against Lan Wangji's.

"Airen. I like that," he breathes.

They stay like that for a while, basking in each other's presence.


Soft chapter, but one that was difficult to write. Definitely look up the song Wei Wuxian plays on the dizi. There's a version on YouTube played with the xiao, and it's lovely.

Last week of summer semester, so it might be a bit before I update.