Yeah, I was extremely bored, not wanting to write the next chapter of Little Red yet and decided to write this out. I decided to do a slight twist on their whole relationship thing so it was slightly more fun then I expected.
Zhuge LiangxYue Ying
"Hatred paralyses life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it." Martin Luther King
The first time she realized that her husband was hiding something she was mildly curious but did nothing about it. He had been planning another war strategy, and she had come in to deliver his tea. As she had knocked and opened the door, he seemed to rush to look dignified. She kept the small smile from her face, not wanting him to know she had caught a hint of his secret. Or, that she now knew he had another one. But he was her husband, and she had faith that it was nothing horrible. She knew the man she loved was nothing evil.
The change came slowly, and so she did not catch it right away. He still went and walked with her among the beautiful cherry blossoms, sharing with her his thoughts about political matters. It was one of the few things she could do, let him rant about the stupidities of politics and the less the adequate moves on peoples part. She often tried to put in her point of view, but she was no where as good as he in these aspects. Mechanics, astrology, those she could strive in, but politics had never been her strong suit. He never appeared like he was in need, or that he had such pain.
The first time she realized something horrible was happening was, again, when she was brining him in some tea. He was to just be studying, he said. He was to be looking for new material for his pupil, Jiang Wei. As she neared the door, she heard the crash as her husband collapsed. She rushed in, foregoing the usual traditions. He was trying to right himself, using a table, with paper scattered around him. She quickly set the tea down and helped him. He was angry, pushing her away. He kept repeating that nothing was wrong, he had just slipped. When he coughed, he said it was just a cold. But, that made her watch more closely and she did not like what she saw.
She and her husband had married not truly for love. She had been intelligent, he had accepted that, and thusly she accepted him. The two easily fell into routines, and they were compatible. She enjoyed her time with him, and he let her use her talents. Slowly, she had learned to love her husband and she thought that, in a way, he loved her. They had never said it, speaking more with words then anything. But, her husband had always been more about actions then words. Smarts more then looks, personality over power. Her husband had always been different. He had always been different, finding strength and power in different means. So, when she slowly watched him decay, she grew frantic.
He told her not to tell, that it was nothing. He hid it well from the others, not even their Lord catching the subtle changes. Mostly, because he waited to collapse when they weren't around. He would wait until people who would stop him, slow him down, make him rest disappeared. He made her watch in silence as he died, because she was the only one who would. She did, which was a mistake she knew. But her husband had never asked much of her, and she couldn't deny him. Not when he begged her not to tell.
At first, she admittedly resented him for it. For putting her through the pain. She would leave him at nights with anger in her heart, and she would go to him in the mornings reluctantly. But she found it did nothing, because she couldn't hate her husband. She couldn't hate the man she loved with all her being. So, because she was scared of the hate that still flourished in her bosom, she threw herself into her works, her studies, and her fights. She carried her bow into the battlefield with white knuckles and heated glares. The soldiers behind her would watch with timid glances as she met the foes head on, shooting them down with merciless aim.
She dared not think about the resentment, she dared not sort it. So, as her lord ordered the death of Wu, she was silently happy for another fight, a large fight that would allow her to stop thinking. Her husband was getting worse, he having to stop all meeting with anybody he could, anybody who would not think it too weird. In his free time, he would call to her, They would still discuss the happenings, what the stars would say, or her latest invention, but no longer during long walks in the cool weather but with him sitting in a chair, looking worse then the day before to her.
As they neared the battle of Wu Zhang Plains, her husband was terribly ill. But he got up in the mornings and came back in the evenings cursing the gods. He begged for more time, he prayed to the gods that he still had more to do. She watched with bittersweet hazel eyes. But then, when he would calm, or the pain would recede, he would turn to her and sweetly ask about her. And she couldn't help but calm as well, feeling like things were almost back to the way they should be, and she would tenderly touch his arm as she spoke.
Then he died. After his funeral, she rampaged through the house in tears. The hate she had ignored, the hate she had denied, bubbled to the surface she screamed and shouted in her tears. She cursed Shu; she cursed Liu Shan, the weak emperor who could do nothing without her husband. She cursed him for stressing her husband, for putting such weight on his shoulders. She cursed Liu Bie for putting the guilt of the pompous Pang Tong and Guan Yu, two men who thought they could do all and died for with their egos. Lastly, she cursed herself for doing nothing about it. She cursed herself for not being more supportive, for helping hold such mighty weight, for not forcing him to see a doctor.
She rested her head against his door, sobs racking her body as she cried. The servants watched from down the hall, peeking around the corner, as their lady cried at his door. She didn't move from the spot all night, the tears stopping and starting randomly throughout the night. In the morning, she stood stiffly and met the servant's cautious stares with a bitter smile. She could resent them all she wanted, and she would because she was stubborn girl underneath the faithful wife personality, but she also knew that her husband would not have wanted her to hate their lord. No, he died serving Shu. She dared not let his death be in vain, no matter how much it hurt to see those at fault prosper.
So yeah, there's those two. I still want to do the other I had planned, but its harder to write then Little Red currently is. I also have been feeling like doing some Xing Cai work. Just, no idea what to write. So yeah, who knows. I still won't mark this complete because I don't know if it is.
