Harrowhark the Ninth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
we_bring_hell) wrote2020-10-27 10:55 am
we_bring_hell) wrote2020-10-27 10:55 am
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This is Halloween!
The Bar loves her holidays, but she is also capable of respecting religious strictures. That's why she put a lot of thought into finding a Halloween costume for Harrow that works with her face paint and general insistence on the monochromatic.
Harrow, for her part, is baffled by the white-pinstriped black suit and the oversized bow, but the gloves are very cool, and the buckled shoes suit as well. She has no idea what's going on but she can live with this.
The Bar seems even more unusually populated than usual, and there are a lot of gourds around. Hm.
Harrow, for her part, is baffled by the white-pinstriped black suit and the oversized bow, but the gloves are very cool, and the buckled shoes suit as well. She has no idea what's going on but she can live with this.
The Bar seems even more unusually populated than usual, and there are a lot of gourds around. Hm.
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He pulls Wei Ying a little closer, putting both arms around him.
His heart is so full it is overflowing.
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Still. He is quiet, in voice and mind. The moonlight washes over them, scattering its light across the lake as late-season crickets sing in the grass. And it does not take very long before he muffles a yawn against Lan Zhan's shoulder.
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The yawn draws his attention, though.
"You are tired."
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"Let me take you upstairs. To rest."
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"Okay," he finally says, and begins the slow, clumsy work of untangling himself from Lan Zhan.
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Lan Wangji shifts position slightly, keeping one arm around Wei Ying's back, then slips his other arm beneath his legs and stands with Wei Ying in his arms.
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"Lan Zhan, I can walk," he insists, even as he wraps his arms around Lan Zhan's neck to hold on more securely.
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He does not seem inclined to allow him to do so, however, and starts slowly back to the inn, still carrying him.
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He tries to tuck his wings closer to himself so they aren't in Lan Zhan's way. It takes a couple of attempts before he succeeds, and the effort is enough to pull another expansive yawn out of him.
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As they reach the inn, he nudges the door open with his foot, then takes advantage of the trick Gideon had suggested to him earlier.
Both white wings sweep out to their fullest extent, forcing people to give them space.
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"You're so beautiful," he mumbles. "I love you so much."
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He leans down and kisses his forehead, then starts across the common room to the stairs, keeping his wings extended.
People clear the way for them, leaving their path unimpeded.
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The floaty, spinning feeling, intensifying with each shift of Lan Zhan's feet, makes him think they are flying. Just the two of them, so high in the clouds that no worldly concern could find them. Together.
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Once they reach the upper hallway, out of the common areas, the magic that Bar-guniang had imposed on them fades. Both sets of wings dissipate as they approach their room, and their clothing shifts back into their accustomed attire.
Lan Wangji will not admit it, but he is a little relieved.
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Sensing their presence, the locking talisman activates in a shimmer of energy; the door clicks open to allow them inside. Wei Wuxian mumbles something faint and incomprehensible, winding his arms more snugly around Lan Zhan's neck.
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He carries Wei Ying across the room and lowers him, gently, until he is sitting on the edge of the bed. Lan Wangji kneels down in front of him, holding both his hands.
"Do you want a bath?" he asks.
He is fairly certain that Wei Ying cannot manage the shower that the bathing room offers.
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Does he want a bath? It's a good question.
"I think so," he says eventually. "Should I?"
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He frees a hand and brushes it over Wei Ying's hair, then alternately coaxes and helps him to lean back against the headboard.
Once he is sure that Wei Ying is not going to pitch over in the next few minutes, he goes to the bathing room and draws the bathtub full. While it is filling, he lays out clean clothes for him and locates the camellia oil for his hair, along with his own comb. When all is ready, he returns to Wei Ying.
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Maybe Lan Zhan was right earlier. Wei Wuxian should tell him, just to be certain.
"Lan Zhan, I think you're right," he says. "I'm much too drunk."
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He puts an arm around him and helps him to his feet.
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He wobbles upright; gingerly puts his feet where Lan Zhan directs as they shuffle toward the washroom.
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Very much so, if the deep fondness in his tone is any indication - which it is.
He maneuvers them into the bathing room and helps Wei Ying to sit on the wide edge of the bathtub, then starts unfastening his robes.
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With exaggerated care, he leans forward to plant a kiss on the emblem at the center of Lan Zhan's forehead.
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"Mark your words," he murmurs.
Once the last of Wei Ying's clothes are dealt with, he gently pulls the red ribbon from his hair, then helps him into the bath.
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