Finally finished Chapter 9, and it's from Lang's perspective. I scribbled a basic outline of the rest of the chapters so I know who's coming next and what's happening in each chapter. Based on the projections, there's going to end up being a lot of Min since she's sort of my neutral narrator device connecting pretty much all the characters together. I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much, but I don't see how else to set up the story since I need to squish in a ton of character development before the ending.
This chapter is all about Lang slowly making his way toward an important epiphany which will be revealed in a later chapter as well as establishing the beginning of a relationship with him and Min. Hope I've made the character interaction interesting enough so that you aren't bored, since this fic is largely based on character interaction. Let me know what you think!
Also, thank you, again to all the people who have faved, alerted, or reviewed this story. I really appreciate all the feedback and support I've been receiving!
Summary: The paths Shen took in the past seem only to lead deeper into darkness. But through the eyes of those who have woven themselves into his life, a new story unfolds-one leading away from old misery and guilt-that may yet bring him redemption. Slight AU. Chapter 9-Lang begins to question the meaning of his relationship with Shen
Chapter 9.
Lang.
Lang confirmed his suspicion that an altercation had been taking place when the peahen hurried out of Shen's "thinking room" and brushed past him as she ran down the hall. The wolf boss had been on his way to check on the situation after hearing the voice of Shen, its pitch elevated with tension, the likes of which Lang hadn't heard in ages.
"Sir, is everything alright in here?" Lang asked, poking his head in the doorway.
Shen barely turned his head in acknowledgement. "Of course it is. Why would it not be?"
Lang licked at his teeth, uncertain whether to push the subject. He surveyed the room with small brown feathers scattered on the carpet and smelled fresh blood—the lady's blood. He heard the slight catch in Shen's voice that anyone other than Lang himself would have missed. He thought back to the discussion of promises he had with Hao. It seemed to Lang that something had shifted in Shen's relationship to everyone the day the lady peahen arrived. So Lang spoke up.
"Something's telling me you're not being truthful," he ventured carefully.
Lang had learned to trust in his senses, and yet again, his trust proved to be well-founded. Instead of snapping about insolence or being flea-bitten as was usual, Shen was quiet for a moment, staring intently at one of his cannon blueprints.
"What could it possibly matter if I've told you the truth? Trust me, Lang, the truth does nothing but make you realize how worthless the world is," Shen said.
Lang's ear perked and twitched at the sound of his name coming from Shen's beak. Shen had taken to calling him "wolf" or "dog" or some other degrading title during their years of exile so it sounded outright weird to hear. Gee, are we having a moment here? he wondered.
"Wait, how can I trust you if you don't tell the truth? That doesn't really make any sense…" Lang said. He knew Shen hated when he took things too literally, but Lang felt such observations needed to be made sometimes, if not just to get his old companion riled up like in the good old days. Then again, before his life went to hell, Shen had been less likely to brandish a knives when upset.
Fortunately for Lang, Shen was apparently apathetic enough to merely grace him with a look of ire. "You know what I meant," Shen said sharply. "Besides, the only one you can really trust is yourself. I know that now."
"Not even an old friend?" Lang asked seriously.
Shen closed his eyes in deliberation. "Perhaps."
Lang nodded slowly, sensing the finality in Shen's tone. Okay, moment over. Better get moving before he flips out on me. Lang turned and padded quietly out the door, feeling more uncertain than he had when he had entered.
He sniffed the air, finding the peahen's scent which led down the long corridors, no doubt toward her room. Perhaps she would be more willing to explain what exactly happened with Shen. What exactly had she said that made him act so strangely?
Her door was slightly ajar, so Lang felt free to push it open and enter. The peahen turned sharply at the sound of the hinges creaking, looking guarded at the sight of a wolf entering her chambers.
"Easy there, Miss Peahen," he said, raising a placating paw. "I just wanted to ask you something."
"What is it?" she asked tersely. Lang could feel her edginess with every hair on his body. She had her hand pressed up to her cheek, feathered fingers stained deep red, and she was nearly backed against a wall.
"What happened with Shen? I haven't seen him worked up like that in a long while." Lang watched as the bloodstain continued to spread down her neck and wing. "Uh, you might want to patch up that cut," he said, gesturing to her wound.
"It looks worse than it is," the peahen said dismissively. "The knife only grazed me. Facial injuries seem to bleed more than other wounds." Her brow was knit. "It could have been much worse, though, if I hadn't jerked away. Still," she continued, her frown only deepening, "he looked like he didn't mean to do it. It was weird. And the things he said…Now I'm just confused about him."
"Yeah? So what did he say? I've known the guy my entire life, almost, and I've never been more confused what's going on in his head than I am now," Lang said. "I've got stuff to worry about too, y'know. Help a guy out here, will you?"
"I don't know. It happened so fast. I thought I knew everything there was to know about his character, but a crack in the mask opens up and suddenly, there's a whole layer of something underneath all his pomp, and dramatics—something akin to hurt," the peahen said carefully.
"Well, see, that's the thing with people. You think you know 'em, but it's all just guessing," Lang said with a light sigh. Sometimes people are all exactly the same.
"Yes, Shen did go off about judgment, and while I can see how that's hurtful, it's no excuse for the things he did," the peahen said, looking Lang in the eye fiercely.
"Doesn't mean you know everything about the person either," Lang retorted. It was the same self-righteous lecture all the time. He had to admit they were right, though. Shen had done some terrible things, and Lang had followed along like his faithful, stupid dog, never protesting once. "We've done a lot of stuff that can't be excused, maybe, but sometimes you feel like you're sliding down a muddy slope that you can't climb alone, and no one's gonna help you up because they decide you don't deserve it. What other choice do you have but to just kick back and go with the flow?"
The peahen slid down the wall into a sitting position, propping her chin on her fists. The flow of blood seemed to have stopped for the most part, though she looked completely filthy to Lang, and reeked something terrible. "What about you, then? You don't seem so bad, but…you were there, weren't you? At the panda village. How could you do something so cruel, yet seem to be so kind right now?"
"What's keeping me from being both at once? I was a young wolf at the time. Shen was my prince. I was loyal to him—still am. Who was I to say no when he called me to follow him? How would I have known what the cost would be?" Lang said. He could still recall the screaming and the flames. Over the years, he'd learned to block out the memories, to not over think the events of that day. Maybe Shen still relived that day in his head, justifying, rationalizing over and over. Maybe that's why he seemed to be unraveling slowly but steadily. The peahen was only the catalyst for a meltdown that had been a long time coming. Only today, Lang realized that his old friend was completely lost and even now had not found his way home. He's still in exile in his head. Gods, I'm just a stupid, stupid dog to not figure it out all this time. All the cannons, the plans for world domination, it was all to take back what belonged to him or burn the world down trying. What do I do, though? What good is the lone wolf when he's up against the world?
"You're never going to abandon him, are you? You'll follow him to the grave if that's where he takes you," the peahen said with a mixture of shock and admiration.
"There's a saying that's been passed down through generations of wolf packs. 'A wolf never breaks a promise.' I made a promise to Shen that I would be his friend until the end of our days and beyond. I'll die before I go back on my word."
"Even if it's not the right thing to do?" the peahen asked.
"Listen, Shen's got this way of eliminating everyone important from his life. His parents banished him, and now they're dead. He exiled his old nanny. There's just me, clinging on by his tail feathers, before he's left all alone in the world he's convinced is out to get him. So I don't give a damn about being right. No one deserves to feel like they're alone," Lang growled, tail flicking in agitation and anger.
"Shen is lucky, I guess, to have a friend like you," she finally replied, avoiding eye contact. Standing abruptly, she made her way to the door. "I'd better clean myself up," she said distantly before leaving Lang alone in the stifling room.
The following evening, Lang sat at the bar of a tavern with a much-improved Captain Hao. The two of them had taken supper there and were washing down their meal with spirits. Over their dinner, Lang shared his observations and thoughts concerning Shen and the lady peahen.
"What bothers me the most is how helpless I feel," Lang said. "Look, I know you and most of the other wolves aren't too fond of Shen, but—"
"No, but we understand how you feel, believe it or not. Boss, I'll follow you off the edge of the earth if that's where the damned peacock takes you and so will all the rest. You aren't a lone wolf. No such thing," said Hao after taking a great swig of his drink.
"Yeah, but there's still the question of what I should do. I always wondered if Shen was taking us all in the right direction. I know a lot of people don't think so, but if I got in his way, I always thought that would be betraying his trust, y'know? Whatever the answer is, it can't keep going on like this," Lang said, absently scratching at his bad eye. The tavern was open-air, and Lang had an easy view of the sky from where he sat. Somewhere in the distance, someone was showing off the fireworks of Gongmen, and Lang's ears flicked with every muffled boom.
"Funny, isn't it, how everybody loves the fireworks, but nobody loves cannons?" Lang commented lazily. "They're the same thing—just make a buncha explosions."
Hao grunted in agreement as the two of them watched the colors burst in the air on the dark, new moon night. "People are weird like that," Hao said. "I don't really like 'em though. Too damn loud. It all depends on what you use them for anyway."
At some tables in the corner of the tavern, voices rose to shouts as a pig squared off with a goat, hollering about loaded dice and bets.
"Ugh, what's going on?" Hao groaned, looking up from his drink. "Hey! Can it over there, will ya?"
"Keep your pointy nose out of this, wolf!" the pig shouted.
"Whatchu say to me, fat pig?" Hao snarled under his breath, standing quickly.
"Whoa, Hao, shake your hackles down, you're drunk like hell," Lang said, putting a firm paw on Hao's shoulder and forcing him back into his seat. "Not worth it to get into it with them."
A crowd had gathered around the two quarreling gamblers, some rooting for a fight while others were trying to restrain them. The goat managed to break free and was ready to throw a punch when a younger pig jumped in between the two and took the hit. The bartender bellowed his threats to throw them out and the crowd managed to pull the angry animals apart before the problem escalated.
"You two couldn't have done something?" the bartender demanded grouchily when he returned.
Lang shrugged. "We ain't the police." Hao grumbled about being able to take all of them out if Lang had let him. "Oh shut up, Hao. You just got over a concussion." Lang was annoyed that the bartender wanted to place the blame on him. Two drunken gamblers having an argument was definitely not a problem he wanted to add to his plate. He was intrigued by the pig who had intervened. Lang wondered if he was a friend of the older pig or just a bystander who got too involved. Shoulda let the dummies duke it out. You didn't have to get yourself socked in the face.
"It doesn't matter if you're the police or not. You aren't helping if you do nothing," the bartender said, handing Lang his bill.
"Whatever," Lang said, snatching the bill and then handing the bartender his money. He and Hao made their way into the street, Hao stumbling slightly. He'd had much more to drink than Lang.
When he and Hao split up, Hao headed off to the barracks where the rest of the wolves resided, and Lang turned up the street toward Shen's mansion. The upper districts were quieter, only a few people wandering the lantern-lit streets. As Lang crossed over the canal, he could see the dark, looming shape of the Tower of Sacred Flame's remains. Lang let himself reminisce in silence for a moment, thinking of all the history that came with that place Shen had burned to the ground.
If someone is doing a bad thing, and I do nothing, does that automatically make me a bad person too? he wondered, feeling more disturbed by the bartender's words than he really ought to be. If Shen wants to jump of the edge of the world, does the good friend jump after him, or does he catch him before he falls?
"Can it" as in "shut up"
Po is up next.