And that---that is not at all what Xichen expects.
Oh.
For all the indignation that had bubbled to the surface, so unlike himself, Lan Xichen deflates quickly. Not to the mask of deference, a smile pulling the corners of his lips and not quite reaching his eyes, but to confusion and then, surprising even himself, it is gratefulness that washes through him.
It is not that he has been left completely alone, that no one cares. On the contrary, his Uncle watches him with disappointment but does not try to drive him from the path he has chosen. His Uncle is too stringent in the way he has followed the Wall of Discipline his whole life, has not strayed. He had devoted himself to keeping Wangji on the righteous path, now it hurts him to realize it was the wrong brother he had failed to lead astray.
With Wangji, it is a different matter. His brother will also not pull him from this room, but he does try. Their weekly tea sessions are a battle of wills, where Wangji has taken to bringing letters he receives as Chief Cultivator along to ask for his brother's advice. Sometimes, he suggests the course of action in response that he knows will drive Xichen toward a response. Thus far, he has managed to hold his tongue.
It is refreshing, to have someone not try to skirt around the so familiar rules that dictate these paths and hallways. That Jiang Wanyin has burst into his rooms, because he is worried. It eases something in Xichen's chest he had not realized was there; there is no ulterior motive here. No trick. This is not a critique, though it is an invasion.
He softens and the corns of his lips do twitch, the ghost of a smile. "No," he speaks finally, slightly shaking his head. "No rules against it and I thank you for your concern, Jiang Wanyin. Truly."
There is a but on his lips, yet he cannot voice it. "It has been months but there are no limits for seclusion. It is not a matter of time." It feels like a poor explanation, one that he would not elaborate on in another life. But that one has passed and, if he is honest with himself, Xichen misses talking to people. He is not suited to isolation, to silence, like his brother is. "Nor is my seclusion wholly about shortcomings I may have as Sect Leader. Though, I do expect that as a Sect Leader, you can see how I have fallen short in looking after my own sect, my fellow sect leaders, and those around me."
That is the thing that keeps him within these walls, in the end. That if he had been better, had noticed, had been less of a fool, perhaps the man in front of him would have had his brother all along, his sister and brother-in-law as well.
no subject
Oh.
For all the indignation that had bubbled to the surface, so unlike himself, Lan Xichen deflates quickly. Not to the mask of deference, a smile pulling the corners of his lips and not quite reaching his eyes, but to confusion and then, surprising even himself, it is gratefulness that washes through him.
It is not that he has been left completely alone, that no one cares. On the contrary, his Uncle watches him with disappointment but does not try to drive him from the path he has chosen. His Uncle is too stringent in the way he has followed the Wall of Discipline his whole life, has not strayed. He had devoted himself to keeping Wangji on the righteous path, now it hurts him to realize it was the wrong brother he had failed to lead astray.
With Wangji, it is a different matter. His brother will also not pull him from this room, but he does try. Their weekly tea sessions are a battle of wills, where Wangji has taken to bringing letters he receives as Chief Cultivator along to ask for his brother's advice. Sometimes, he suggests the course of action in response that he knows will drive Xichen toward a response. Thus far, he has managed to hold his tongue.
It is refreshing, to have someone not try to skirt around the so familiar rules that dictate these paths and hallways. That Jiang Wanyin has burst into his rooms, because he is worried. It eases something in Xichen's chest he had not realized was there; there is no ulterior motive here. No trick. This is not a critique, though it is an invasion.
He softens and the corns of his lips do twitch, the ghost of a smile. "No," he speaks finally, slightly shaking his head. "No rules against it and I thank you for your concern, Jiang Wanyin. Truly."
There is a but on his lips, yet he cannot voice it. "It has been months but there are no limits for seclusion. It is not a matter of time." It feels like a poor explanation, one that he would not elaborate on in another life. But that one has passed and, if he is honest with himself, Xichen misses talking to people. He is not suited to isolation, to silence, like his brother is. "Nor is my seclusion wholly about shortcomings I may have as Sect Leader. Though, I do expect that as a Sect Leader, you can see how I have fallen short in looking after my own sect, my fellow sect leaders, and those around me."
That is the thing that keeps him within these walls, in the end. That if he had been better, had noticed, had been less of a fool, perhaps the man in front of him would have had his brother all along, his sister and brother-in-law as well.