Whumptober: Possession & Protectiveness
Ft. Lan Xichen / Song Lan & Lan Xichen / Jin Guangyao
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Lan-er's fingers flew over the guqin strings, faster and faster. The skin at the nape of my neck prickled. An instant later he turned wide eyes to me, lips parting on a soft "uhh" of distress.
Then the shaking started.
I was at his back in an instant, trying to still his convulsions with the gentle pressure of my embrace, reaching around to grasp for his hands. They strummed on, frenetic. I felt the sticky wetness of his blood under my fingertips. The energy of the room constricted around us, as sudden and dangerous as a summer storm.
And then, just as I reached for Liebing, Lan-er went utterly still.
The voice that emerged, delicate and pained, from his throat was… was…
I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. This wasn't happening, couldn't be happening.
"Er-ge," he repeated, with wonder. Lan-er's sturdy form shifted in my arms. He half-turned to meet my gaze.
That broke my paralysis. My love's eyes were wide and deep, mouth held in a slight muoue, brows peaked slightly toward the crown of his head.
It was painfully familiar.
It was the most alien thing imaginable.
And… Lan-er's muscles, from the slight curve of his cheek to the knots of his shoulders, were almost rigid. Was he aware inside his body? Was he fighting?
“Jin Guangyao.” I took a breath to steady my voice. “Let him go.”
“I missed you.” He tilted his head--Lan-er’s head--to press his cheek into my chest.
I flinched away. “You don’t belong here anymore. Let him go.”
I could exorcise him, I thought wildly. A-Yao’s cultivation was not especially strong in life. It probably wouldn't be too difficult, even with the boost of resentful energy he must have received from the manner of his death.
But could I extract one soul from a fierce corpse without also banishing the other?
His face did… wrong things. I could see A-Yao’s pain and Lan-er’s fear tangled in the same beautiful umber eyes. A-Yao’s full mouth had been so mobile and expressive. The pouts, the dramatic frowns, the quick little smiles all looked so eerily incongruous on Lan-er’s subtle lips.
“I don’t belong anywhere anymore,” he agreed. He turned to kneel facing me and took my hands in his. I could feel them shaking with tension. “All of you fine nobles trapped me in a box to be Baxia’s bloody ragdoll forever.” He lowered his eyes and his voice.
How was he articulating so clearly in this stolen and scarred mouth? Lan-er was hardly silent, but his hands carried his words. I had never heard speech from his lips.
It didn't sound exactly like my memory of A-Yao. But I was painfully certain that the voice was not Lan-er's.
“It hurts, you know," he continued. "Not just the spiritual torture. I thought…” He swallowed. (Lan-er rarely swallowed. A-Yao was performing. The knowledge did not make me ache any less.) “I thought you saw me as an equal,” he finished quietly. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of, it’s true. But I wouldn’t expect you to let them do this to me.”
I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to hold his hands or thrust them away. I continued gripping them. Lan-er might or might not want the contact right now. But he certainly didn’t want A-Yao inside him. At least I could give him something safe to hold onto, to try and stay sane.
Gods. Lan-er often didn't even let people he trusted touch his skin. To have a stranger, and such a complicated one, inside his body–
“Please don't make me force you out. I will," I warned. "But it would be damaging for you and for the one you are possessing." I shook my head. "You built the coffin where you now lie. You can’t escape the consequences of your actions anymore. I’m sorry.”
His hand cupped my cheek. His voice was barely a whisper. “Er-ge. Don’t leave me alone in the dark.”
“I have been praying and dedicating merit.” I fought the impulse to shrink from the touch. “The rest is up to you.” With another breath, I hardened my heart and my tone. “Lianfang-zun. Let Song Lan go.”
For an instant, Lan-er looked at me with terrified and furious eyes. My breath and my surging heart tangled in my throat. My lips parted, wanting to cry his name like a summons, not quite daring.
Just as swiftly he was gone. A-Yao glared at me from stolen eyes blown wide. His tightening fingers clawed into my cheek.
"You've replaced us." A-Yao's voice shook with jealous indignation.
"Should I stay in solitary seclusion forever?" I snapped. "Yes. I found someone. He is one of the kindest, gentlest, most devoted people I've ever met. I love him. And you're hurting him." I flinched and reached up to touch the hand gripping my face. "You're hurting me," I added softly.
We sat motionless. He had forgotten to breathe, I realized.
"I did love you," he said at last, quietly. "You and Da-ge both. I never meant for– for any of this to happen."
I nodded once. My throat closed over all the words I had screamed into the night, written in endless journals, wanted to say and been unable to shape with tongue and voice.
"Can you ever forgive me, my heart?"
I swallowed, hard, past that clot of unspoken things. A fever radiated from my throat into the stiff space between my ribs and settled, hot and roiling, in my belly.
He reached, tenderly, to brush the tops of my cheeks. Oh. Tears. I was crying.
"Please stop," I choked out.
He sat frozen for a short forever. I choked again, pressed my hand to my mouth. Drew a deeper steadying breath. Stilled my mind and spirit for what I must do next.
He half-rose and kissed my forehead, scattering my fragile resolve, and resettled himself neatly onto the floor.
Then abruptly Lan-er sagged into himself shivering. He stared at me with the wide and wild eyes of a cornered animal.
Panic gripped me. "I'm–so sorry. Are you--do you want--can I help–"
He shook his head and made a shoving-away gesture. He used me to hurt you. His hands shook. I should go.
I grabbed the trailing hem of his sleeve. "No--please, not unless you want to. I–" Something within me shattered. "Can I hold you? Would that be alright?"
He hesitated, spine stiffening.
"Oh gods, I'm sorry. I shouldn't ask that. Please, do whatever you need to do. I'm so sorry." I was babbling. "I'm alright, I'll be alright. Please don't worry about me. I'll be– I'll be here. Or down by the falls maybe. You're safe. Don't play again without Wangji or me supporting, but– you're safe. He can't reach you without a way in."
He hugged his arms firmly over his chest as if he were holding the pieces of himself together. He blinked, stared through me with haunted intensity, squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again.
I… I'm sorry, I don't doubt you, but–promise me you won't hurt yourself?
"I won't," I promised, and then caught up with the question. My troubled ex-lover had used Lan-er's body against his will, to hurt me.
I cursed. It wasn't exactly parallel to what happened to Xingchen, but it was close enough.
"I won't," I repeated firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. No surprises." No suicides.
He nodded slowly, mechanically. Closed his eyes again. Took a slow, deliberate breath.
I forced myself to respect his space as he uncurled his body one finger, one limb at a time.
Can we walk to Crystal Falls together? he asked, finally. I… don’t think I can do touch right now. I’m sorry.
“Please don’t apologize,” I interjected swiftly. “I’m sorry that–he only came because–” I swallowed. “This is my fault.”
His umber eyes flashed. Don’t you dare blame yourself for this, his hands sliced sharply into the air. He stole so much from you. Don’t give him that as well. His actions have never been your fault.
Hot tears pricked my eyes again. I blinked them back along with the urge to protest. I wanted to take care of him. An argument is not what he needed.
“Let’s go to the falls together,” I said.
He twined his fingers in the drapes of my sleeves, and we walked together out into the twilight.
