The answer to the question of what to do with the vanquished Wen army was easy; the answer to the question of what to do with the puppets, less so.

"They're dead," Nie MingJue insisted. "Play Rest and bury them."

"They're not dead," Wei WuXian countered. "And not alive, either." He'd spent days examining the puppets. Now that their handler was dead or run off, they were docile. Moving as directed, but only for the strongest of the Nie cultivators. Stubbornly remaining in place when requested to move by every other cultivator. And occasionally attempting to resume the life they lived before this happened to them.

"Corpse poisoning?" Lan XiChen asked. He'd spent several hours each day playing various GusuLan melodies attempting to wake them up or make them die. Nothing he tried had any effect. Lan WangJi and his brother held one of their soundless conversations. As much as Wei WuXian stared into his friend's face, he could not see any muscle changes anywhere to indicate his thoughts. It made him want to study the younger jade even more…. One-sided conversations were so boring…. Lan XiChen finally nodded, as if in agreement. "It's the Yin iron again."

The Sect leaders immediately started conversing about how to remove the yin iron control over the puppets, and debating if it would simply be more prudent to destroy the puppets to prevent Wen RuoHan from regaining control of them.

Wei WuXian ignored them all and idly fingered a qiankun pouch hidden in his sleeve. It was a nondescript pouch sealed with as many spells he could find. And hidden from prying eyes with his newest, strongest 'go-away' spells. The sole item in the pouch was set with confounding spells, tricking the eye and mind to see nothing important. Had anyone ever managed to pull the item from the pouch, all they should see and feel was an ordinary, decrepit, black encrusted, iron sword. He, however, knew it was much more than that.

It was made from Yin iron, too.

Logically, if Wen RuoHan's Yin iron was capable of being used to make and control puppets, this sword should be, too. He doubted that any of the allies would be willing to use it for that purpose, however. Wei WuXian unconsciously looked towards Lan QiRen: being yelled at and kicked out of class for merely discussing using resentful energy? He shuddered to think of how the old man would react upon hearing that Wei WuXian wasn't thinking about hypothetically using resentful energy….

Energy was energy in the same way that killing was killing.

Taking a life was taking a life whether you stood on the side of righteousness and justice or selfishness and evil. One could justify their actions saying that killing this one was for the common good. Or it was to prevent further lives from being taken. One could justify doing bad for a good cause.

Could that also not be used as an excuse for using resentful energy? Wen RuoHan's puppets existed whether the allies knew what to do with them or not. He could send a spy almost at any time and regain control of them…. They were impervious to pain and so would continue to fight until the body was destroyed.

Why not make use of them? No one knew how to return them to normalcy. If they were doomed to remain puppets for the rest of eternity, why not learn how to control them and use them to fight against the Wen dogs? Perhaps even wrest control of the other puppets in the Wen army and have them fight against their comrades?

After all, it wasn't like he would actually create new puppets…. That would be wrong. He was just going to use the ones already made….

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on who you were, the Sect leaders were emboldened by their victories. They decided to take the fight to Wen RuoHan.

That gave Wei WuXian only a few days in which to further examine the puppets. And by 'examine', he really meant 'attempt to use the Yin sword to control' the puppets.

The Lan were especially keen to free the puppets from whatever did this to them. Visiting the puppets meant spending time with anywhere from twenty to seventy Lan. Wei WuXian would sit in lotus position, hands hidden in his sleeves (he usually didn't care for voluminous sleeves like Lan Zhan wore, but in this case, they were quite handy). Also hidden in his sleeve was the Yin sword, so he was able to grasp it with one hand and attempt to cultivate with it or through it or whatever it. Most of the Lan were easy to ignore, even with their ever-present, and occasionally discordant, music.

Lan WangJi, however, was a distraction. And not because he was far more interesting to look at than the puppets, either.

Lan WangJi was learning how to play a song.

Lan WangJi was making mistakes.

That was almost as distracting as a beautiful girl wearing barely opaque clothing untying her robes would have been.

How was Wei WuXian supposed to concentrate when the sight and sound of his friend hitting the wrong note, sighing, placing his tensed hands (knuckles white with anger) across the strings to silence them, and then starting all over again was so vastly entertaining?

By the third day, the one before the army was set to leave, Wei WuXian was so familiar with Lan WangJi's 'song', that he was able to quietly whistle along with the younger jade. Quietly because anything louder than a whisper earned him the wrong kind of glare and a stern "Wei Ying!" which he (correctly?) translated to mean 'shut up or I'll make you shut up!'.

Wei WuXian found it interesting to note that he could see variations in his friend's glares. It either meant that Lan WangJi was getting better at expressing his emotions or Wei WuXian was getting better at reading him. Either were good. Either meant progress.

And if Wei WuXian hoped deep down that he was the one getting better at reading his friend instead of the other getting better at expressing emotions? To be one of the few who could read Lan Zhan's mind? That would be something incredible and special. Maybe it meant that someday soon, he could stop calling Lan WangJi friend and start calling him gege.

So there he sat on the third day, feeling rather annoyed that he was going to have to stop his experiments to go off to fight some more battles, idly whistling along to Lan Zhan's much improved song, pouring spiritual energy into the sword and mentally 'talking' to the puppet in front of him, and instructing him to move.

The puppet, which had sat unmoving for over a week, moved his arm. Not far, barely the width of a finger from where it had been. But movement nonetheless.

He attempted it again and again, whistling the same few chords over and over, giving the same instruction over and over, to no avail.

He went to sleep that night wondering if the puppet simply decided to move on its own. Or if there was some combination between the amount of spiritual energy used, the instruction, and the song that was able to penetrate into the puppet and force it to obey his will that he managed to accomplish that one time and failed since to duplicate?.

While the army marched forth from the Unclean Realm to the Nightless City, he continued to ponder. He learned how to meditate and refresh his body while marching so he was able to stay awake at night to practice whistling at the puppets marching alongside them. How Nie MingJue and the other strong Nie cultivators got them to move in the first place, he had no idea.

So that was another question to ponder while meditating/marching.

Marching was slow making meditation possible. An army only moved as fast as its supply wagons moved. So that meant they started walking well after breakfast and stopped for the day well before dinner.

About a week into the march and a few skirmishes with the Wen, it was Wei WuXian's turn to act as a scout. He was instructed to run/fly out a few days' march and look for trouble.

Lan XiChen meant trouble as in Wen. Wei WuXian found trouble as in yao. More specifically, a two headed tiger like creature. One head spit some sort of nasty black goop, the other head spit fire, lighting said nasty, black goop. Wei WuXian escaped with minor burns to his forearms; his sleeves were not as lucky. Stepping away from the tiger carcass, Wei WuXian gingerly slipped his outer and inner robes off and keened silently at the sight. He loved this black robe with its bright red embroidery and matching red inner robe. He examined the garments carefully and decided that they were still usable. Or it would be once he added in new sleeves. He had plenty of experience mending his clothing; how hard could it be to sew in sleeves? A few quick slices with Suibian and what was left of the sleeves fell to the ground. He was shrugging himself back into the inner robe when Lan WangJi landed.

The older boy ignored the tiger thing, focused solely on the raw and bloody burned forearms. "What happened?" he asked quietly, examining the burns.

"Oh, you know me," Wei WuXian tried to make light of his injuries; it was difficult with the other boy moving his arms around. "I saw this tiger and decided to play with it for a while. We were having a slight disagreement about the proper size of sleeves, you see. He said my sleeves were excessively long and a blatant display of wealth. I tried to explain that I was probably poorer than he was, but he wasn't listening. Nope. He just all of a sudden went spit, splat, whoosh! And my sleeves caught on fire. I made him pay for that. I'm thinking that I could use his fur to line my bed now that fall has set in and winter is coming. Do you think we'll still be fighting come winter? Our tent is nice, as far as tents go, but it's not insulated against the cold at all. My blankets are warm enough for now; I'm not sure how well they'll cope when it's cold enough to snow.

"Did you hear how soldiers say they handle sleeping in winter in tents? One of the Yao disciples told me that they sleep four to a bed and use shared body heat to stay warm…. I'm not sure if he's telling the truth or not. Well, the common soldiers are already sleeping four or more to a tent. Thank you, by the way, for insisting on having me as your roommate again. Tentmate. However you want to say it."

"Wei Ying," Lan WangJi interrupted. "Does it hurt?"

"They're burned, Lan Zhan. Of course it hurts." Wei WuXian, however, was not paying attention to his throbbing forearms; the space between Lan Zhan's eyebrows had a teeny tiny wrinkle in it. So small, he wasn't sure if it was there at all. And his head had cocked just slightly off center when he'd asked the question. Was that how Lan Zhan showed he was worried? Realizing he'd spent far too long analyzing his tentmate's facial expression, Wei WuXian blithely continued. "You don't need to worry about me. I'll go see Wen Qing when I get back to camp and get some cream for it. You can see they're healing already!" That last sentence, unfortunately squeaked instead of spoken, was necessary because Lan WangJi was holding Wei WuXian's right hand in his left hand and directing spiritual energy into his arm with the other.

Wei WuXian felt strange and uncomfortable. Disconnected. He hadn't held hands with anyone since before he received Suibian at twelve. And that was with Jiang YanLi, so it didn't really count. Not that Lan WangJi was holding his hand, really. He was, but not like one 'held hands' with another person. While Wei WuXian was trying to figure out what he was feeling, Lan WangJi switched to holding his left hand.

Lan WangJi's right hand felt… odd. Interesting. The fingertips were callused, of course. But then so smooth to below the lower knuckle where another callus lay. It was an interesting contrast. Smooth and rough against Wei WuXian's palm. His own right hand only held calluses between his first and second fingers from where he held arrows to his bow.

Wei WuXian's body all of a sudden felt feverishly hot and slightly dizzy. "Lan Zhan? I think we should leave now. I thank you for helping me to heal, but I think I need Wen Qing to make sure the tiger thing didn't affect anything else." Lan WangJi just looked at him, no longer passing energy, but still holding his hand. "I'm feeling kind of dizzy," he admitted. "Maybe the goop was poisonous?"

That almost non-existent wrinkle appeared again. "I will take you."

Wei WuXian wanted to sigh in relief until he realized that 'I will take you' meant he was going to have to ride on Bichen with the other boy. Somehow, he simultaneously felt giddy and nauseated at the thought of riding on the older boy's sword. Trying to disguise the heat he felt rising through his stomach into his throat, he poked through the burned mess of sleeves until he found his qiankun pouch with the Yin sword in it, more than slightly worse for wear, but spells intact.

Because he'd said he felt dizzy, Lan WangJi insisted that he ride in front, so Lan WangJi could hold him up in case he passed out. Flying back to camp with a hand clenched around his belt just made the dizziness and giddiness increase.

It was awful.

Wen Qing congratulated Lan WangJi's healing of the burns and found no evidence of poison anywhere. She commanded Wei WuXian to go to bed early with orders to eat a bland dinner and imbibe no alcohol. Wei WuXian had no intention of following those orders; Lan WangJi giving him a look that clearly stated he could either behave or be made to behave made him change his mind.

Wei WuXian was quite proud of himself for correctly interpreting that look. Nowhere near ready to sleep, he begged his tentmate to entertain him. "A story, please, Lan Zhan? Tell me one of the children's stories you had read to you. Or make one up. Please? I'm going to go crazy here. It's too early to sleep! Even the Lan don't go to bed this early!"

Lan WangJi's ears turned the barest of pinks. "I didn't have children's stories read to me."

Wei WuXian crumbled into a ball on his mat. "I knew your childhood was sorely lacking something! Were you always treated like small adults? Did you never just… I don't know. Run around and have sword fights with trees? Or build forts out of mud and dirt? Or sled down a hill on a serving platter?"

"No. How do you sled on a serving platter?"

"The same way you sled with any other item!" At Lan WangJi's blank look, Wei WuXian explained. "You take the platter to the toppest part of the hill you can get to."

"Toppest is not a word."

"That's not important. So you take the platter up to the highest, steepest part of the hill making sure there are no adults to see you and stop you. That's very important. Adults have this idea that sledding is slightly dangerous…. So they'll try to stop you from doing it. They also don't seem to like you using serving platters as sleds…. I can see their point on that a little bit… Jiang Cheng and I broke several platters when we'd go sledding…. Then you have to use your hands and feet to balance your butt above the platter and carefully sit in the back. Wait… first you put your feet below the platter so it can't go anywhere. You gotta keep your hands firm, here, or you or the platter might start sliding before you want to. After your butt is secure, you tuck your feet to rest on the other end. Use your hands to give yourself a big push and down you go! I suggest you choose a hill with very few rocks that stick out of it. Jiang Cheng broke his leg one year sledding into a rock. And I broke my arm another year sledding over a rock. It was quite thrilling to be airborne, though…. Madame Yu said it would have been better if we'd broken our necks. We don't get a lot of snow down in the Lotus Pier, so…. There's no sense in not enjoying it while it lasts."

"Breaking a bone is enjoying snow?"

"That part wasn't fun, of course." Wei WuXian screwed his face up into the most pitiful way he could make it. "Lan Zhannnnn…." he whined. "Entertain me! Do something!" Suddenly remembering, he said. "You could play for me if you want. You can tell your brother you were practicing if he asks." Lan XiChen liked to wander the camp at night, and he always mentioned it when he heard Lan WangJi playing.

"Mmm." Wei WuXian uncurled himself, smoothed out his blankets, and obediently closed his eyes. Lan WangJi played softly, infusing the music with enough spiritual energy to soothe his roommate into sleep.

"I like this song," Wei WuXian hummed along with the melody, starting to drift off. "You played this for me back in that cave, didn't you."

"Mmm."

"You were supposed to tell me the name," he pouted and yawned.

"I did."

"I didn't hear it," Wei WuXian mumbled into his pillow.

If Lan WangJi told him the name again, he wasn't awake to hear it.

For the next few days, Wei WuXian was convinced that Wen Qing had lied to him about being poisoned. His body would turn hot at extremely inconvenient times. Or he'd be trudging along and Jiang Cheng would make a disgusted noise and shout, "What the Hell are you always smiling at? You look like a lunatic!" Or he'd sit down to eat with his friends and he'd all of a sudden feel like his stomach was going to tie itself in knots. It was only really bad for those few days, though, and then he felt fine. Mostly.

He changed his mind about feeling fine the day he woke to find Jiang Cheng sitting on Lan WangJi's bed. "Here," the younger brother said, shoving a wooden box across the narrow space. "A'Jie said I was to give this to you today."

Wei WuXian was still rubbing the sand from his eyes. "Why would ShiJie be giving me a present?"

"You are an idiot," was all Jiang Cheng would say to that.

Wei WuXian opened the box to find a letter folded neatly on top of a dizi: a black bamboo one polished to a shine. "To replace the one lost at Lotus Pier," he read. "Aiya. ShiJie is too kind!"

"She is," Jiang Cheng agreed and shoved a mess of red string into his brother's hand. "This is from me. To hang on the end."

Wei WuXian unwound the mess to see a beautifully knotted tassel. "You are too kind, too, ShiDi. I'm still not sure why you're giving me gifts, though."

"You are definitely an idiot," Jiang Cheng nodded sagely. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Should I?" He'd lost track of which day of the week or month it was a long time ago.

"Enjoy your presents, idiot," Jiang Cheng muttered and huffed out of the tent.

At breakfast, Nie HuaiSang handed him a warm coat in Jiang purples embroidered with silver. After a few minutes of back and forth of 'take it' 'no, thank you' 'yes, you will' 'I don't need your charity' kind of conversation, the Nie heir finally stomped his feet. "Did the Jiang's not teach you any manners at all? You are not allowed to give back birthday presents!"

Wei WuXian blinked at his friend. "Oh."

"Oh, what?"

"That's why Jiang Cheng called me an idiot."

"You forgot your own birthday?"

"It's not like I don't have other things on my mind, you know," Wei WuXian insisted. It's not like birthdays are important in the middle of a war, either.

Wei WuXian found his birthday present from Lan Zhan on his bed that night: the tiger pelt lay neatly folded on his pallet. "Happy birthday, Wei Ying."

His voice was soft and low and almost intimate and did things to Wei WuXian's stomach. The younger boy immediately wrapped the fur around his shoulders to hide what he felt was a sudden onset, full body flush. Either he was very, terminally, sick and Wen Qing was hiding it from him… or he wasn't sick at all and somehow these symptoms were all related to his tentmate. "Thank you, Lan Zhan. I love it."

A/N: The difference between plagiarizing and not is citing your sources. Yes, the two headed tiger is a variation of the two headed dragon in How to Tame a Dragon. Not sorry. Those were cool dragons.

Thank you for reading.

- Aitch.