a flower beyond the edge of the clouds
by Rose Thorne
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with The Untamed, and make no money writing fanfiction.
The red thread was fraying, and that was what distracted Lan Wangji from the battle.
The same thread that had made itself known the first time he met Wei Ying, when he'd seen his face light up with wonder upon seeing it, that had made him go cold with dread because of how a similar one had destroyed his mother.
The thread he had never acknowledged to Wei Ying, who probably thought it was a one-way connection by now.
Wei Ying stood sobbing at the edge of the battlefield, near the same cliffside they had stood at after the Sunshot Campaign had ended, when they had first encountered the Jin sect indiscriminately slaughtering civilians and played Rest for their souls.
A slash across his arm forced his attention back to the battle, and when he looked up again, his soulmate was closer to the edge. The thread was fraying further, which could only mean one thing.
He rushed closer, watching in horror as Wei Ying shattered the Seal, as the cultivation world turned on each other to try to claim the remnants of its power. As he backed toward the edge.
"Wei Ying, come back," he urged, but he knew his soulmate was beyond hearing him now.
He was at the edge now, his arms raised as in supplication to any god that might show mercy on him, and then he was leaning back, letting go of Chenqing.
Lan Wangji moved faster than he could remember ever having done before, reaching wildly for Wei Ying, and somehow he managed to grab his wrist, jamming his sheathed sword against the cliff to keep himself from hurtling after.
The surprise on Wei Ying's face as he looked up at him was soul-wrenching.
"Lan Zhan, let me go."
He shook his head, even as blood dripped down his arm and slicked his fingers.
"Soulmate," he whispered, desperate.
It was selfish, to claim him only now, only like this, only after he had lost everything several times over. But he hoped he could be enough for Wei Ying.
Wei Ying showed no reaction, just stared at him tiredly, his face a map of despair.
"You'll find a better one," Wei Ying said. "More deserving."
Lan Wangji wanted to scream, but Jiang Wanyin was moving beside him, his blade unsheathed, his face a rictus of pain that held no love, no mercy.
"Jiang Wanyin, stop!" he begged.
But the sword was already moving, lodging itself into the cliff, and Wei Ying ripped himself from his grasp in his moment of distraction.
The look of peace on his face as he hurtled to his death, as the thread between them snapped and blackened, would haunt Lan Wangji more than anything else he had experienced in his life. Even the eventual whips across his back, the pain of his scars in inclement weather, would never compare.
Sixteen years later, he would hear notes only one other would know, would grab the same wrist he had failed to keep hold of on the edge of that cliff, and see the thread between them repair itself, red again, and he would promise himself to never again let down his soulmate.
Writer's Month has two prompts each day, and this time I used both of them: "edge" and "soulmate AU." Title is from "Long Yearning" by Li Bai.
