Whoo! Hurrah for a new chapter. I have some serious things to say before I get to review responses and whatnot. Just for the record, if Fanfic hadn't been having technical errors all day, this would have been up around noon. :/ So, yeah. Not totally my fault.
First of all, this chapter had a lot of inspiration from outside sources. The two main ones that any of you will recognize if you've read/seen/learned them are:
1) The Stormlight Archives, by Brandon Sanderson. This comes in when Lan Fan is talking about the different stances of martial arts, and she calls them "Stone Stance" and such. Sanderson uses this a lot in his original universe's fighting styles, and though I changed a few of the names for this story's benefit, I probably wouldn't have thought of it without reading his stuff.
2) The stances that Lan Fan talks about are also shameless imitations of the five basic stances of Wushu, which is Chinese martial arts. The actual names of these stances are the Horse Stance, the Forward Stance, the Drop Stance, the Cat Stance, and the Cross Stance (Ma Bu, Gong Bu, Pu Bu, Xu Bu, and Xie Bu), put in the order that I use in this chapter. I learned about and analyzed them mainly from youtube videos, and I recommend "Beginner Wushu Techniques: Five Stances of Wushu", posted by expertvillage. The woman who does the videos is really phenomenal – she moves exactly like I imagine Lan Fan moving in my head. Very cool.
Other cultural notes:
A 'loquat' is an actual Chinese fruit and, from what I can gather, it is a kind of a cross between a western apple and plum: it has several small, inedible seeds inside it, but the texture and skin seem more plum like. They also grown in bunches, like bananas, and seem smaller than the average apple.
I thought about relating the five basic stances of martial arts to the five precepts of Buddhism, but realized that whatever religion they follow in Xing probably isn't called 'Buddhism', and to go through the process of drawing the parallel would be too much of a derailment from the purpose of the scene. Still, it's a good parallel, if any of you are interested in looking it up.
The hydrangea flower in Chinese culture is, apparently, used as a symbol of gratitude and enlightenment, which is why it is used in a very important scene. If any of you know differently, please let me know – this information is only the product of a relatively brief internet search. I could be wrong.
Finally, the dessert called 'lashnak' that I mention at the end of this chapter is just a little goodie that I made up in my brain house for Makanay's culture. She lives west of Amestris, and in my head her native land is very militaristic, but also diverse with its exports and food culture. Lashnak to me is kind of like baklava - a sticky, sweet, completely unhealthy Turkish treat. So good.
As far as responses go: Thanks to leena1445, Dotdodot, and Ice Maiden Olivier for responding and complimenting the last chapter. You all had very kind words and good ideas – but this author note is too long already. Since no one had questions to answer, I'll just give you all a big THANK YOU instead!
I had a lot of fun writing this chapter… sorry it's a little shorter than usual, but I thought this would be a really good end, and couldn't bring myself to extend it. If I had, it would have been monstrous… and I'd be posting this a few days later than I am. Hope you enjoy reading it!
Lan Fan spent her day mostly as she had planned. First, she made good on her promise to herself and meditated until her mind was cleared and calmed. It was not that she understood her odd, mixed emotions towards her master and Bilan, because she still did not. She had the feeling that she would not want to understand even if she could.
She had, however, resolved to let the emotions name themselves in due time rather than worry herself over the matter. A saying Grandfather had once told her after waking from nightmares of the Young Lord being assassinated was, "Worry gives small things big shadows". It was not the first time that his advice had soothed her spirits.
After that, she had trained. And trained, and trained.
It was almost like a purification ritual, using every ounce of her concentration, energy, and effort to work her body to its absolute limits, and then some. She sparred against almost every guard in the palace and won most the fights. She exercised her balance on bamboo poles until she did not even need to think about finding her center, even pushing herself to support all of her weight on a single finger. Then she worked on switching the finger to her flesh hand as opposed to the one of automail. Then she worked one making that flesh finger her pinky. By the time she was done with that practice, she felt lighter physically than she had felt in a long time.
The palace's equipment to train agility was also something she frequented, weaving through obstacles faster, more fluidly, and more imperceptibly all the time. She barely stopped for breaks, only pausing to drink water because of the lectures Grandfather had given her and the concern of her fellow guardsmen. Then she would be back to dancing with the shadows, working on her qi yanbi stamina while she was at it. Once, with a little inspiration that would have made the young master proud, she used the products of her increased stealth and qi cloaking to sneak up on a dozing palace guard and square him half to death with the image of her mask forming (seemingly) out of nowhere. She had had herself a good laugh at that one, and promised to tell the young master about it later.
By the time it was noon, she had done at least two days' worth of straight training, but she was nowhere closer to finding the inner peace she craved. Lan Fan stopped briefly by the fruit bearing trees near the training grounds, snatching a loquat fruit – similar, if she remembered correctly, to what Amestrians called plums - and nibbled on the sweet flesh thoughtfully. The sun was high above and she could feel the full effects of its heat, especially with the lack of shade in the training courtyard. Licking the trickling juice of the loquat from her fingers, she sighed restlessly, thinking about what Grandfather would have had her do. She had already done strength, stealth, balance, and agility training – what else was there?
In a breath, Lan Fan was taken back to a much simpler time, when she was first starting her training under her Grandfather. She remembered him taking her into a secretive forest clearing, sitting her down, and telling her how to meditate – she also recalled protesting that she wanted to learn how to fight. He had scolded her, of course, saying that control and mindfulness were the most important parts of training, and she would not be allowed to advance if she did not master them. That was the day he taught her how to truly breathe for the first time. Afterwards, that secret coven of peace had become her favorite place to meditate and train, and it was where he first taught her the beginning steps of martial arts. Throwing away the seeded core of her loquat, Lan Fan did not hesitate as she headed for the one place she realized she wanted to be more than anything right then.
Once at the place of her memories, Lan Fan paused before taking the trek into the forest that would lead to the peaceful clearing. It occurred to her then that the last time she had been here, she had been accompanied by Grandfather. It had been the day before their departure to Amestris… neither had known for sure if they would come back alive. In the end, only one of them did.
Lan Fan's hands clenched of their own accord as she forced air into her lungs, pushing back the bitter pain of memories, taking a sip of water from her wineskin to ease the lump in her throat. She needed this more than she knew.
Gathering herself, she took the first step from the daylight into the muted green lighting of the secluded forest. Immediately it was as if the air grew fresher and stiller, and she was entering another world. As she continued, letting her feet lead her by memory, she looked around her and was filled with the kind of wonder that comes with discovering something for the first time. The eyes she observed this scenery with were so different now that everything seemed just as alien, yet comfortingly familiar. The air was a cool respite from the heat of the sun, the plush Earth beneath her feet crisp and pulsing with the life of qi all around her. The smallest details – the flitter of a curious bird as she glided between branches, the rustle of the underbrush, the fallen leaves shifting in eddies of wind currents – seemed so rich and vibrant now in a way they had not been before. Lan Fan could not be sure what had changed, but she felt herself in awe because of it.
After passing the landmark gnarled tree – she had always thought it looked like the warped throne of some woodland deity when she was younger – she knew she had come to the entrance of the clearing, veiled as it was by a covering of vines. Everything stilled, in that moment. Lan Fan had the strange feeling she was at a cross roads, or something of the sort. She had the choice of revisiting a place that had only ever been shared with her by the person who had taught her everything she knew, possibly opening old wounds and undoubtedly forming new memories to replace the old ones; or, she could let sleeping dogs lie. Turn back now and let this place stay in her heart as the one place she and Grandfather had kept secret from the world.
Something inside her knew that she had already made the choice. She had to move on. If that risked the memories she had of Grandfather in this place, then so be it. Raising her automail hand to part the vines, Lan Fan took the plunge.
The light that had earlier been tempered by foliage now came alive with full force, and Lan Fan's breath caught at the same time that she flinched. Of course, the intensity of the light was the reason why she was forced to look away, but the reason why her lungs were no longer obeying her was quite different. As she became adjusted to the brightness, she found herself unbelievably thankful that she had chosen to revisit this place.
It was… ethereal, making raw emotion catch Lan Fan's breath in her throat as awe took had a difficult time believing that such a place existed on Earth. Lan Fan actually found herself wondering if, perhaps, it did not really exist and if she tried to find it again tomorrow, it would be transformed into a normal clearing once more. Perhaps it was her fatigue playing tricks on her, or her memories were casting a veil of fondness over the scene, but the tranquility that she found here seemed to truly permeate the air.
The grass was vibrant and soft under her padded feet, and in a moment of inspiration she threw off her foot coverings. Bliss wove its way up her body as her toes curled into the lush earth and grass, her eyes closing in utter delight. Instinctively, she breathed in deeply, and felt sweet, mossy forest air calm her mind. Lan Fan felt as though she had just entered some haven in which time was suspended and no mortal troubles could dare bother her. The whirlpool of dark emotion she had been struggling to suppress all day in her mind's eye was utterly calm, and she could sense no malice from its depths.
Surveying her surroundings more closely, Lan Fan found the features of the clearing snagging at her memory. The abnormal mound in the middle of the clearing was where Grandfather used to sit, instructing her from his place. A low hanging bough towards her right had often been used to hang a target on, or had otherwise been a favorite of hers to lounge in during her breaks. The hollowed tree there used to house a family of birds, who would either sing merrily or squawk in alarm if a tray kunai hit too close to home. Lan Fan felt a smile grow on her lips as she remembered the stern countenance of her Grandfather struggling between amusement or reproach at the harmless mistake. He had given her one of those resigned sighs that she had learned by then only meant that he was laughing on the inside.
Walking over, Lan Fan placed a reverent hand upon the mound he had frequented, feeling closer to his presence than she had in a long time. Perhaps it was the change in setting, or the sudden peace that was stealing into her soul… but this time, when the tears rose and her throat tightened, she did not fight them. In the real world, she could never allow herself this kind of display… but then, this was not the real world, was it? It was a haven made for the deities themselves. Lan Fan felt inexplicably liberated by the freedom of that thought, and let the tears roll freely. Her long-since removed mask dropped to the cushioned ground at her feet.
While a moment before Lan Fan had been reading to drop to the ground with fatigue and meditate, she was now renewed with a refreshing energy. Although she knew she still needed to meditate on her inner turmoil, she also felt like somehow, simply being in this magical place was a kind of induced meditation. Just being in such a peaceful atmosphere did her spirit wonders, and now she wanted to be moving again, to know that she was alive. Unbidden, one of the first memories she had of this place flashed in her mind.
"Lan Fan". Grandfather's voice pulled her from her meditation. The young girl blinked open her eyes, wide and unassuming.
"Yes, Granfather?"
There was a humorous crinkle in the old man's eyes as he unfolded himself from his lotus position. Without another word, he arranged himself in the sturdy stance she recognized as the basic fighter's stance – on guard, rooted, and steady. After a moment of pause, with Lan Fan staring uncomprehendingly, he looked at her expectantly.
"Well? What are you still sitting for?" He questioned gruffly. When she only furrowed her little brown and cocked her head, not daring to assume what he meant, his face relaxed a little.
"You are ready, Lan Fan. Stand up now, and learn the fundamentals of combat with me."
Lan Fan's eyes opened wide with excitement and an uncharacteristically childish grin spread across her face. With all the eagerness of an apprentice ready to prove herself, she launched herself from her place on the ground and joined her Grandfather. She would have embraced him in glee, if not for the fact that she was already so focused on perfecting her stance. And so her lessons began…
Lan Fan smiled, and knew what she had to do. To practice anything else in this sacred place would seem horribly out of place. Perhaps she had been going about her training all wrong – she had been feeling unbalanced in her very core, and so had pushed herself to the greatest limits of her ability. She could almost hear Grandfather, shaking his head in disapproval: "Trying to sprint before you can walk is dangerous and unwise."
She needed to re-root herself in the current moment, instead of getting caught up with her inner emotions. There was a subtle different between all of the advanced training she had pushed herself to do, and the very basics which Grandfather had instilled in her. When one was older and more experienced, training became more fluid – something to thrive and change. When one was learning fundamentals, however, ever move need to absorb the utmost concentration, and be perfectly precise. The center and columns of a mighty building needed to be strong and unbendable so that the rest of the structure could be flexible and remain resilient under pressure. If the center and supporting columns were allowed to fracture, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the structure came down with it.
It was with no small amount of guilt that Lan Fan realized that, what with chasing after the prince, training more specified forms of combat, and organizing the palace guards, she had not spent as much time on basics as she should have.
No time better than the present, she thought with a small smile.
The Fu battle technique was a mixture of all forms, coalesced from centuries of travel, study, and mastery. The idea was that anyone who could master the Fu Family's techniques could adapt to any other style of combat, and thus have a more complete chance of victory.
The first five stances of the art were common and almost universal across all techniques in Xingese combat. From these, different stances, attacks, and blocks could be formed, but they all started with these basic ingredients. She assumed the beginning position, what she often called Stone Stance in her mind, and relived Grandfather's teachings. Legs farther than shoulder width apart, toes faced outward, her thighs found a perfect alignment with the earth beneath her, hands in loose fists by her waist. Closing her eyes, Lan Fan breathed through her stomach, feeling the pulse of the earth's qi beneath her, furling with life. She could not be knocked down in this position – in battle it could be used to regain balance after taking a hit, hence why she called it Stone Stance.
With the fluidity of the kind of muscle memory that the body never quite forgets, Lan Fan exhaled and moved into the next positon, what she called River Stance. With her left leg extended behind her, her weight on her bended right leg, she maintained her fists at her side. This was secretly her favorite because she could easily move her body in almost any way she wanted from this stance, choosing the path of least resistance, as water. Her focus centered on keeping her spine straight and at attention. She breathed in, and flowed into the next stance.
Her body shifted into a lower position, releasing her breath as her torso rotated to face frontwards, instead of towards her right knee. Her left leg was still extended, but was much closer to the ground, the soles of her feet completely flat on the grass beneath her. This, she called Snake Stance. This position was essential for floor sweeps and, when done quickly and correctly, could allow her to strike unexpectedly from the ground as a serpent, undetectable and deadly. It also required flexibility and balance, and she had many memories of tipping over when she was first learning. Now, she did not sway as she settled into the familiarity. Breathe in.
Slowly and with control, Lan Fan executed her favorite portion of the fundamental stance routine. Breathe out. The River Stance may have been her favored stationary stance, but the grace of moving from Snake Stance to Wind Stance was too elegant not to love. Pushing her coiled right leg, she switched her center of gravity to her left leg, bending it to be nearly parallel with the ground. Her right leg extended, toes pointed, to barely rest on the ground as she maintained all of her body weight on the leg beneath her. Her arms came up, one poised behind her and raised, the other stretched outward and flat. She dubbed this the Wind Stance in her mind because it had always been the most difficult for her to master, evasive as the wind but just as necessary as air to breath, if she wanted to perfect her fundamentals. Breathe in.
Keeping her left leg and torso completely still, she moved her right leg beneath her, folding it deftly beneath her core and crossing her left leg above it. Sinking into the position, Lan Fan came to the final Blossom Stance. As a child, the poised stance had reminded her more of a flower bud waiting to burst into bloom, so she had named it instead of its potential – the Blossom Stance was tight and compact, and while an enemy might mistake it for a resting position or a weakness, it could be transformed into something unexpected. As Lan Fan felt her qi settle into the position and the memories that came with it, she released her final breath.
She could almost hear Grandfather encouraging her efforts, praising her successes, and telling her what she needed to improve upon. This time, she did not even notice the single thin track of salt water that ran down her cheek. Instead, she gathered herself to start again, with the ghost of his words echoing through her.
She flew through the basic forms of martial arts, and then accelerated to more advanced forms, then wove in and out of combinations she made on the spot. She forgot to think because she had to focus on controlling her breath, calming her heart rate, and just letting herself be. She lived and pulsed and blossomed that evening as the sun beat down upon Xing. She did not fight imaginary foes, nor did she obsess about shadowy ones lurking in the dark with the intention of assassinating her charge, nor did she pay any heed to the foes within her own emotions.
The only thing she felt was a strange, soothing unraveling, the very undoing of herself as she emptied her soul into her practice. More than a few times she could feel salt water running down her face that was not sweat. Whenever her lungs ached and her muscles brought her down to the Earthly plane of existence by screaming at her, she found that she was in danger of being crushed by the fear of the unknown that moved inside of her. Over time, however, when she faced this unknown, she found that she was only staring at a still pool of blackness within herself – it did not move or threaten. It was only as dangerous as she made it out to be, so she learned to sit by it quietly, watching, and waiting for something to rise out from its depths. During these times, while she was watching and waiting, she found that she could continue to erase herself and join the plane of existence where she was everything and nothing all at once. She simply was.
When she finally stopped, it was because the red glaze of the sky reminded her of blood and of her duties. Her stances slowed and became more deliberate, until they stopped altogether and left her in the ending position with one knee and her knuckles pressed to the ground, her forehead in repose. Her body was soaked in sweat, her breathing was erratic, her blood was warmed, and her limbs felt numb and heavy. The sun was heading towards the horizon, and the servants would be re-lighting lanterns soon.
Then, unexpectedly in a day otherwise mapped out, she was overcome with the urge to visit Grandfather.
That was how she found herself here, kneeling in respect at the rounded headstone with a hydrangea blossom laid down in offering. She brushed dried twigs and leaves off of his weather-stained bodyguard mask and laid her own beside it with an aching heart. She remembered the first time he had given it to her.
'This is your mask, Lan Fan," Grandfather informed her, handing her the garment. 'It is both to protect your face and your identity, but the meaning behind it goes deeper.'
Young Lan Fan took the mask from him, eyeing it and then his own.
'It's different from yours, Grandfather. It's almost opposite.' Lan Fan frowned before thrusting the mask back towards her mentor. 'I don't want it. I want to be exactly like you, Grandfather!'
Grandfather laughed his dry laugh, like an ancient Tree Spirit, and laid an affectionate hand on her head. Instead of taking her mask from her, he held his own mask up next to it.
'Do you see the emblem on the forehead of my mask, Lan Fan?'
'Yes. You said it was "yang", the symbol for light and positive qi.'
'Indeed I did. When I protect Master Ling and don this mask, I become the embodiment of Yang. What do you notice about your own mask, Lan Fan?'
Lan Fan looked. 'Instead of Yang, it has Yin, the symbol of darkness and negative qi.'
Grandfather nodded. 'It does. Lan Fan, the symbols of yin and yang complete each other. On their own, they can be great, but together, they represent the most perfect balance that the world can create.' He gently pushed her mask back towards her. 'I have done my job, but now I need your help. Yang is powerful, but ever more so when it has Yin to balance its weaknesses and fight with it."
Grandfather knelt to become level with his granddaughter and put his hand on her small shoulder. 'I need you to be my Yin, Lan Fan. Yang is no longer enough. I need you to be you – just how many Fu's do you think this world can take, eh?' he chuckled. Surprised that he had just made a joke about himself, Lan Fan stared in childish awe for a moment before giggling herself. After a moment of intently serious consideration on her innocent face, she embraced her mask close to her chest.
'I understand now, Grandfather.' Lan Fan hesitated, shyly taking her Grandfather's hand. But a question weighed on her mind, and she tightened her grip on his hand to draw courage. Somehow, she had a feeling she might not like the answer.
'Grandfather?'
The older man looked down. 'Yes?'
'What happens if Yin gets… separated from Yang?' Lan Fan tried not to show how much the question worried her, but she knew her Grandfather. He knew everything. Grandfather, however, only stood, tying his mask into place. Lan Fan followed suit and wondered if she would ever get used to the unfamiliar feeling of concealment the mask offered.
'The simple answer,' he answered. 'is that Yin and Yang cannot be separated, because they cannot survive without each other.'
The little girl sighed, sad at the inevitable thought that, if Yang went away, Yin would be alone forever. She did not know it yet, but she held the heart of a fierce romantic, and the sacrifice that Grandfather described simply did not seem fair. Then again, Grandfather had taught her in a different lesson that often, the world was not fair.
'I thought so,' she confirmed in a resigned tone. And that was that.
That was, until Grandfather continued. 'You must not forget, Lan Fan, that Yin and Yang can be found in more than one place: the balance of Yin and Yang is always within us and in those around us. A good warrior knows not only how to seek the balance, but when to do it.'
Young Lan Fan looked up at her Grandfather with wide, surprised eyes behind her mask. The older man chuckled at her expression. 'You must remember, Lan Fan; Yin and Yang, dark and light, can never truly die. This is why they cannot be separated – when one form of Yin or Yang extinguishes, another takes its place. It is the way of the universe.'
Lan Fan, now so much older in more ways than one, traced the smudged outlines of Grandfather's Yang symbol reverently.
"There will never be another Yang like yours, Grandfather." She whispered. Her head bowed by his headstone as breathing became difficult, the pressure behind her eyes increased, and eventually the tears fell. She missed him more than words could express.
She let the tears flow and run themselves dry, allowing herself a few moments of helplessness and grief. These were the darker emotions that belonged to Yin, the emotions that were hidden in the shadows of everyday life. The sorrow that rose up out of that black pool within her was an old acquaintance, too bitter to be called a friend, but familiar nonetheless. Now, Lan Fan felt it surface, and wept that Grandfather was not there to soothe her as he had been wont to do.
Once the tears slowed, however, she wiped their trails away and blinked her brightened eyes. Breathing out slowly, she expelled her melancholy feelings and opted for a tremulous smile. She knew without a doubt that Grandfather would not approve of her being consumed by such emotions on his behalf. He had always told her that a bodyguard's emotions had no place when on duty, so they had to be dealt with in other ways. Often times, he would force her to drink tea and talk with him, even when all she wanted to do was cry herself to sleep or scream at imaginary fiends.
Now that he could no longer drink tea with her, she simply talked.
"A girl arrived at the palace today, Grandfather." She began. "A lady, in fact. I know it is not my place to talk openly about such things, but… she was very kind to me. I told her things I have never told another person so easily in my life, least of all a stranger. She is… special, in a most pure and beautiful way."
Lan Fan frowned, not really knowing how to put her thoughts into words. She could almost hear Grandfather egg her on with a gruff 'So?'.
"Even though she showed me nothing but sympathy and compassion, I cannot help a feeling of… well, I cannot know what it is, exactly. But I do not like it, and it confuses me. What's more…" The words were coming in a rush now. She couldn't have stopped if she wanted to. "… I overheard from one of the Councilmen that she is the intended bride for the young master. Only, she does not know it yet. She was invited to the palace, but she does not know she's to be… well, courted, I suppose."
Her brow creased, taken aback by the unexpected pang she received when she envisioned the Young Lord and Bilan with the label of 'courting'. She waited for the pang to subside as she grew accustomed to the idea, but it did not. She did not.
The young warrior sighed and bowed to touch her forehead to the ground in front of her Grandfather's tombstone.
"Grandfather, if you can hear me, please help me. I feel that the only thing that will make me understand anything now is your guidance. Please… Yin has been exhausted, and only Yang can shed light and restore what is missing."
Her plea was met with silence. Even the playful wind had stilled as the sun, the highest incarnation of Yang, crept toward the skyline. Lan Fan sighed again, not realizing that she had actually expected an answer until she felt more alone than ever.
Is this punishment? I was not there to help him in the face of danger, and now Grandfather's life –
Lan Fan stopped the blameful thought in its tracks. She refused to taint Grandfather's memory and resting place with such thoughts. His decision had been his own, and it had been noble, driven by honor. She would not turn it into chance circumstance driven by her own shortcomings.
Instead, she raised herself and retrieved her mask from where it lay next to its twin.
"Rest well, Grandfather. I should return now." She said to the silence. The sun was more than halfway gone, leaving the vibrant color of dusk to settle over Xing. "But thank you for listening. I will try my best to follow the teachings you have already given me. I hope to pass them on to my own apprentices someday."
Just as she stood, Lan Fan heard her name being called. Turning, she smiled at the approaching figure of Makanay. The red-haired woman waved. With a last bow to her Grandfather, Lan Fan turned and left to meet her friend at the entrance of the cemetery.
Lan Fan was silent for a moment, trying to calculate the most casual way of asking after the Young Lord. Of course, Makanay beat her to the point with her blunt perceptiveness.
"The prince decided to retire early. I handed him off to a sentry once he entered his rooms." She chuckled. "He's probably ordering a servant to bring him more food."
The dark haired girl smiled, but did not reply. Her silence prompted a sideways glance from her friend. After several steps of quiet, Makanay sighed with something that seemed like frustration.
"Lan Fan, stop." She took hold of Lan Fan's shoulder, turning her to face her serious gaze. Lan Fan raised her eyebrows, wondering what had prompted such concern in her friend. Makanay looked at her steadily. "I realize that none of this is my business, and partially I blame my own damned curiosity, but… I am a little worried."
Lan Fan's eyebrows rose further as she tried for an innocent expression. Makanay rolled her eyes, prompted to continue.
"Come on, Lan Fan. Skipping an entire day of watching your beloved prince? Disappearing for hours without letting any of the palace guards know where you were?" Lan Fan tensed, as if suddenly remembering the duties of her position, and flushed with something like shame. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts and emotions that she had not even thought about telling someone that she was going into the forest. Makanay, of course, noticed.
"What, did you think I wouldn't notice?" The older woman crossed her arms. "All of the palace guards know that you can take care of yourself, Lan Fan. That isn't the question. But I do not think you realize how important you are in this place. You are perhaps our most skilled fighting here." She paused. "Besides myself, of course."
Lan Fan started, both at the compliment and at the sudden humor. She let out a broken little laugh, and could think of nothing better to do than to bow her head.
"Truly, I apologize, Makanay. It was not my intention to make you worry."
Makanay grunted and began walking again, and Lan Fan smiled secretively. She knew that the foreign woman still felt uncomfortable with the way Xingese people expressed respect, gratitude, apology, or otherwise… but she was glad that the woman cared.
"Ah, stop your groveling and walk with me back to the palace," the woman ordered over her shoulder. The tension of the earlier moment was forgotten, and Lan Fan's mistakes forgiven – for the time being at least. She smiled bigger now, glad to have such a person to rely on, and jogged a little to catch up with Makanay. The woman walked with her shoulders back, hands clasped behind her back, and chin up as if she were royalty. She looked at Lan Fan from the corner of her eye.
"But you know…" she started again. "I think it would be well advised to go say the same apology to your precious master." Something in her expression softened in a knowing way. "He's been tied up in knots all day worrying about you."
Lan Fan's blush immediately returned and something squirmed in her stomach. "W-what?"
Makanay ignored her. "Of course, he tried to hide it, but he did a piss poor job of it, in my opinion. That lady he had with him probably didn't noticed because she doesn't have experience with such things, but there weren't five minutes that passed without him looking for you in the shadows."
The heat in her blush was instantly chilled, and Lan Fan felt a little sick from the fast change. "He had… a lady with him?"
Cocking an eyebrow in her direction, Makanay nodded. "Yeah. Bay-lan, or some such."
"Bee-lan." Lan Fan corrected absentmindedly. It was only after she said it that she groaned at her careless mistake.
As if on cue, Makanay's eyebrows rose further in feigned surprise. "Oh! So you know of her, do you? My… how convenient that the very day Prince Ling spends a day with a lady sweet as damn lashnak is the day that you make yourself so scarce that not even I can dredge up information of where you've been." Lan Fan gulped under the pressure of steely eyes. Though Lan Fan had the insane urge to ask what 'lashnak' was, she held her tongue.
I have the feeling that your grandfather would be proud of you.
Lan Fan pursed her lips at Bilan's heartfelt words, reminded once more of how impossibly, wonderfully, painfully kind the girl was. She was also reminded once more of the horrid, confusing, instinctive whisper that said 'I could never be that good'. This feeling of worthlessness. Of powerlessness. Her visits to the clearing and Grandather's grave had soothed much of the pain that was inside of her, but the fact remained that she still did not understand it. An enemy that one did not understand was one who was impossible to defeat.
"Lan Fan." When Makanay said her name again, it was with a more resigned look. "I promised myself I would never again bother with relationships above my station, but you and the prince seem very… close." Makanay's light colored eyes seemed to search her companion's face, but Lan Fan only looked away and pretended that her neck was not getting warm. "So I'll ask this once and once only – how exactly do you feel about the prince?"
"He is my master and friend, and I will protect him in any way I can to make sure he acquires the throne," Lan Fan's response came with no hesitation. She was actually a little surprised herself as to how immediate the answer had been, but she realized it was true. It made her feel a little better actually – like she knew where she stood now. Where she stood was where-ever her master needed her to stand, for as long as she could be of service to him. Lan Fan fiddled with the mechanism that would retract the blade that extended from her automail elbow, making her left arm less dangerous.
Such was the way things always would be.
On the other hand, this did not seem to be what Makanay was looking for. When Lan Fan darted a glance at her friend, the foreign warrior had pursed her lips. Instead of saying anything else on the subject, however, she was true to her word. Makanay asked no more, and simply nodded tersely.
In a moment, they had arrived at the servant's entrance to the palace, with the sun sinking ever lower beyond the horizon. Makanay rolled her shoulders.
"Well, I'm beat. Had to babysit lordlings and their butterflies all day – you have no idea how mundane it gets." She griped mockingly. She gave another queer smile at Lan Fan before patting her on the shoulder. "I'll head to the quarters, then. Surely you want to go to the kitchens to get something to eat?"
Lan Fan recognized a veiled command when she heard one. Though Lan Fan technically outranked Makanay by being the personal guard of the future Emperor, the older woman still tended to look after her regardless. Lan Fan did not mind – in fact, it was a warm reminder of how nice it was to have someone looking after her, like Grandfather had once done. Besides, she was famished.
"Of course." Lan Fan smiled. Makanay waved one last time, leaving Lan Fan alone to her thoughts. She began walking in the opposite direction.
Such was why she never heard Makanay as the strange warrior sighed to herself.
"If that's what you want to tell yourself, youngling…" she muttered, thinking of the younger girl's response to her question. He is my master and friend. "… then maybe this was all for the better. After all," she smiled bitterly and touched her eye patch. "I wouldn't want you to end up like me."
The guardswoman shoved her hands in her pockets, and whistled a lonely tune from her home land. Idly, she realized that she craved some sweet, sticky lashnak.
If anyone has any confusion, questions, or suggestions about any of the cultural tidbits in this chapter, I recommend you read the author note at the beginning of the chapter and/or review about it! If I got anything wrong or if anything is offensive, please let me know!