He would never admit to it, and if anyone asked he would simply claim to be weary from the journey and the Night Hunts they had taken part in along the way, but that would not be the truth. He feels that bubble of anxiety that is so strangely familiar to him, an echo of what he had experienced in his youth - the desire to please, to show that he is worthy, that he is meant to have the regard of the person that he cares about.
It makes something burn inside of him, and the knowledge that he is welcome, that when he arrives in the small village that she might greet him with that small, soft smile... It keeps him going, it keeps him focused, until the moment gets there and is stepping off his sword and beyond the gates of the place he knows she is waiting for him.
Most of his disciples had been ordered to go and rest at a nearby inn, so it is just him, and he looks around the space for a moment before his eyes land on her. Momentarily breathless, he feels his cheeks prickling with heat before he steps forward and offers her a proper, formal boy, peering at her over his hands. ]
Sect Leader Jiang, ( she greets him, the lightest blush on her cheeks betraying her otherwise serious greeting, accompanied by a respectful bow in return. she remembers how she felt when she first found the comb, touched, intrigued but with never enough time to ruminate on what-ifs between them.
with her new, relative freedoms, even with all her responsibilities, she can at least allow herself to think, only grateful he entertains such thoughts, even reciprocating. wen qing has spent much of her life blending her identity with that of her sect, that it feels strange to continue to separate herself from it.
at this moment, there is only the two of them, even if they have to suffer through a few more pleasantries before they can find privacy. )
It's not that she is unchanged since he last saw her, his eyes cataloguing the differences, but that she is as captivating as he remembers her being, his heart warm and soft inside of her as he indulges in the urge to take a step closer. They've been so formal, so careful with each other, but there's no denying why he is here.
There's a comb in his pocket.
Glancing around, as if checking to ensure they're alone, he hesitates briefly before he nods his head, once, and swallows the strange doubt that rises inside of him. ]
Would you show me around? I have not visited before now.
( she hardly knows the ways of romance. does she takes his hand? would it embarrass him? would it be inappropriate?
wen qing folds her hands behind her back, but lingers close to him, enough so that her shoulder brushes against his arm as she begins to lead him on a tour. these are modest lodgings — especially when compared to how she grew up — but she is nonetheless proud of the village they have built from the ground up, like little seedlings finally climbing towards the sun. maybe she will allow herself to feel a small bit of hope. )
It was only right to find a better place for us, ( she explains, gesturing to the patched-up buildings forming a small U around a garden in the middle. behind them are farms, where most of the residents tend to their crops. )
[ It's not as if Jiang Cheng knows anything about how to court a woman.
There had been attempts, before now, by a matchmaker, who had deemed his personality too abrasive for any woman, and had refused to find him a proper match. He had chosen to abandon it after that, far too focused on his sect, on ensuring that Yunmeng Jiang thrived; he could worry about marriage and an heir in the future, when it became more paramount. He wanted to ensure the stability of his people first.
Swallowing, feeling his fingers twitch with the urge to touch her, he walks alongside her instead, trying to keep his racing heart as calm as possible. ]
It is better than before.
[ Easy enough to admit.
It's not a grand sect by any means, but Jiang Cheng can appreciate it for its simplicity, for the comfort to be found here. ]
( there aren't many luxuries to be found, but wen qing would say that a safe existence is a luxury on its own. she manages another smile at him, nodding in response to his question. )
I always wish I could do more for my people, but I am certainly happier than before. ( a brush with freedom looks good on her. at least, here, she can focus on what truly matters to her, including making sure that her community remains in good health.
she goes quiet when they pass a pair of aunties looking over curiously, her expression serious but not cold. ( there is always room for gossip, even during times like these. ) wen qing relaxes again, stopping in front of her small quarters. )
Jiang Cheng doesn't know how to measure happiness. He doesn't know how to look at the events of his life and find the joy in then, no more than he knows how to measure his own reactions to things, no more than he knows how to survive what has been inflicted on him and his sect. Trying to find any kind of joy has been difficult, but he has forced himself - because he could not drown himself in grief and regret, not when he had people to lead and disciples to train.
It would have been easier, but when has he ever taken the easier route?
A breath comes, and he hesitates, as if not sure what to say, before he finally nods. ]
I think so.
[ Not the most confident answer, but it will have to do, especially when he can reach out and let his fingers brush hers, especially when it feels as if one of his better dreams is coming to life. ]
( it doesn't surprise her that he hesitates in responding to her. their lives have taken such drastic turns from already difficult foundations. after all her hard fought battles, it feels almost unnatural to allow herself to feel happiness. that she is alive, that her people have survived, that jiang cheng has come to see her — wen qing won't take a moment for granted.
the slightest brush of their fingers shocks her system, and she almost instantly transforms into a teenager right then. blush tints her cheeks and she stops herself from looking away from him in embarrassment.
happier. because of her.
with the smallest smile on her face, she tilts her hand slightly so that her knuckles graze his as she turns away to slide the door open. there are still appearances to maintain, and ( mostly ) she wants to avoid any nosy aunties later on. )
[ It is still hard to define things like happiness, joy, pride, warmth, little emotions that had been so outside his reach for many years. It had taken all he had to restore the Jiang Sect after they had been torn to shreds, had taken longer to prove himself a suitable and worthwhile leader, but he thinks he has managed it. People are in awe of him now, feel fear when he walks in the room, and Jiang Cheng respects that for what it is.
He has mastered it. There is no denying it. He will continue to master his future as well, even if he cannot have such control over the past.
The offer sparks a gentle rise of colour on his cheeks, and he glances around, as if anyone would interrupt them, before he nods his head. ]
I would be glad to.
[ He remembers their shared words, their gentle teases and discussions, and he flusters a moment before he gathers his confidence. ]
( it's astonishing, seeing that boy she first met flicker across the sect leader's face. wen qing allows herself a bigger smile as she pushes the door to the side, welcoming him into her personal space. the accommodations are humble, though still a far cry from where she used to be, a breath away from begging in the streets to survive. there is a still-hot kettle on the table, wrapped in cloth with two cups next to it.
as she turns away from him to close the door, the blush on her cheeks comes into full force and she needs a moment to steady herself before facing him again. )
I am very glad you have come, ( she confesses quietly, gesturing for him to join her at the table. )
[ There are only a handful of people that can inspire that kind of boyishness from him, and the majority of them had already been ripped away from his side. A part of Jiang Cheng thinks he ought to be doing more to appear as formal and as proud as possible, but the constant reminder that Wen Qing had seen him at his worst delays those thoughts as swiftly as they come.
She has seen the worst of him, and still invites him for tea. For more, perhaps, giddily.
Stepping around the table, he sits, making himself comfortable even as he nods his head. ]
( wen qing in turn struggles to seem more relaxed, so used to never letting the mask slip. it doesn't matter how much time she has spent outside of palace walls — some habits are simply more difficult to break.
still, she hopes to put them both at ease and starts by relaxing her shoulders, no longer keeping her back as stiff as a board with her arms folded in front of her politely. she reaches for the still-hot teapot and pours simple barley tea in small glass cups. having something to do with her hands helps. )
I am — pleased to see you well, ( she finally offers, lifting her gaze off her cup as she holds it close to her face, letting the steam briefly settle on her skin. )
[ It's hard to let go of the politeness pushed into him since he was young, to be calm and careful even in the privacy of a quiet space alone. It's hard to shove aside his own nature, the way he can almost picture his mother scolding him for not following proper decorum.
Slowly, carefully, he begins to relax as well, watching her with a fondness that he can't disguise. It's impossible not to, when she is so beautiful in front of him, so sweet in her appearance, everything that he had dreamed about for so long. Resisting her now is impossible, and he wonders how obvious he is being.
Glancing away, he swallows, licking his lips before he breathes out. ]
( she takes a sip, though the warmth of her drink does nothing to help the blush on her cheeks, which eventually reaches the tips of her ears. it betrays how well she thought she had been hiding how rapidly her heart had been beating since she closed the door and allowed them both some privacy.
eventually, she sets the cup down, reaching across the table and extending her hand. there is no use in constantly punishing herself for what has been done in the past, what they could have done to prevent some of the wrong. there's only the present to live for. )
Then let us close the distance between us.
( it still sounds so proper, but that's something both of them will eventually learn to shake off. together, she hopes. )
[ The tea is a distraction, he thinks, and it means nothing to him in the wake of how much she means to him. The urge to reach out and touch her is overwhelming, and only his own sense of propriety - and his own nerves - stop him from wrapping his arms around her and holding her so, so gently. This is new territory for him, but...
He is doing what he can.
Wen Qing reaches for him, and he reaches back, the callouses on his hand brushing against her own. Slowly, he draws it up, so that he can lean in and kiss the tip of her fingers, turning to kiss her knuckle. It feels a touch on the edge of embarrassing, but that's okay; he can deal with a touch of sheepishness for her. ]
Closer, now, then?
[ He would move to her, go to her, now. Draw her into his lap. Hold her. ]
( wen qing isn't unfamiliar to courtship, though she had skirted attention for as long as she could, walking a fine line to ensure her family's protection and their place in the larger hierarchy. courtship was to be expected, especially when she was a much younger woman. flirtation is another thing entirely.
she's surprised — though, perhaps she shouldn't be — when he kisses her hand after her small prompting. grasping her hand, she expected, lacing their fingers together, maybe.
but she wants more. she knows he wants the same, and she fights every single urge to deny them another moment of happiness together, temporary or not. she squeezes his hand, tugging on it so he can come around to her side of the table. )
[ Even closer, closer, and it's a temptation he can't ignore, a daydream that had settled in his mind for months and left him wanting more of her. It had started out so simple, so soft, the desire to kiss her, to touch his hand to hers, to be the one to show her affection and warmth, and had developed into something all the more. The desire to be with her is new enough, and his heart thuds in his chest as he moves around the table to breach the distance between them.
It feels like crossing the largest gorge, but also stepping across the smallest stream, so important to him and yet such a simple gesture.
Jiang Cheng is close enough now to lean in closer, to move her hand up and let it rest gently against the sharp edge of his cheekbone and jaw, to gaze at her with that adoration that he had never quite being able to muzzle or hide. ]
As close as you will permit.
[ Easy enough, then, to guide her close, to seek her mouth in a kiss. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
💖💖💖
He would never admit to it, and if anyone asked he would simply claim to be weary from the journey and the Night Hunts they had taken part in along the way, but that would not be the truth. He feels that bubble of anxiety that is so strangely familiar to him, an echo of what he had experienced in his youth - the desire to please, to show that he is worthy, that he is meant to have the regard of the person that he cares about.
It makes something burn inside of him, and the knowledge that he is welcome, that when he arrives in the small village that she might greet him with that small, soft smile... It keeps him going, it keeps him focused, until the moment gets there and is stepping off his sword and beyond the gates of the place he knows she is waiting for him.
Most of his disciples had been ordered to go and rest at a nearby inn, so it is just him, and he looks around the space for a moment before his eyes land on her. Momentarily breathless, he feels his cheeks prickling with heat before he steps forward and offers her a proper, formal boy, peering at her over his hands. ]
Lady Wen.
no subject
with her new, relative freedoms, even with all her responsibilities, she can at least allow herself to think, only grateful he entertains such thoughts, even reciprocating. wen qing has spent much of her life blending her identity with that of her sect, that it feels strange to continue to separate herself from it.
at this moment, there is only the two of them, even if they have to suffer through a few more pleasantries before they can find privacy. )
I hope the journey has not been too arduous.
no subject
[ It's hard to take his eyes off her.
It's not that she is unchanged since he last saw her, his eyes cataloguing the differences, but that she is as captivating as he remembers her being, his heart warm and soft inside of her as he indulges in the urge to take a step closer. They've been so formal, so careful with each other, but there's no denying why he is here.
There's a comb in his pocket.
Glancing around, as if checking to ensure they're alone, he hesitates briefly before he nods his head, once, and swallows the strange doubt that rises inside of him. ]
Would you show me around? I have not visited before now.
no subject
wen qing folds her hands behind her back, but lingers close to him, enough so that her shoulder brushes against his arm as she begins to lead him on a tour. these are modest lodgings — especially when compared to how she grew up — but she is nonetheless proud of the village they have built from the ground up, like little seedlings finally climbing towards the sun. maybe she will allow herself to feel a small bit of hope. )
It was only right to find a better place for us, ( she explains, gesturing to the patched-up buildings forming a small U around a garden in the middle. behind them are farms, where most of the residents tend to their crops. )
no subject
There had been attempts, before now, by a matchmaker, who had deemed his personality too abrasive for any woman, and had refused to find him a proper match. He had chosen to abandon it after that, far too focused on his sect, on ensuring that Yunmeng Jiang thrived; he could worry about marriage and an heir in the future, when it became more paramount. He wanted to ensure the stability of his people first.
Swallowing, feeling his fingers twitch with the urge to touch her, he walks alongside her instead, trying to keep his racing heart as calm as possible. ]
It is better than before.
[ Easy enough to admit.
It's not a grand sect by any means, but Jiang Cheng can appreciate it for its simplicity, for the comfort to be found here. ]
Are you... Happy here?
no subject
I always wish I could do more for my people, but I am certainly happier than before. ( a brush with freedom looks good on her. at least, here, she can focus on what truly matters to her, including making sure that her community remains in good health.
she goes quiet when they pass a pair of aunties looking over curiously, her expression serious but not cold. ( there is always room for gossip, even during times like these. ) wen qing relaxes again, stopping in front of her small quarters. )
And you? Are you happy?
no subject
Jiang Cheng doesn't know how to measure happiness. He doesn't know how to look at the events of his life and find the joy in then, no more than he knows how to measure his own reactions to things, no more than he knows how to survive what has been inflicted on him and his sect. Trying to find any kind of joy has been difficult, but he has forced himself - because he could not drown himself in grief and regret, not when he had people to lead and disciples to train.
It would have been easier, but when has he ever taken the easier route?
A breath comes, and he hesitates, as if not sure what to say, before he finally nods. ]
I think so.
[ Not the most confident answer, but it will have to do, especially when he can reach out and let his fingers brush hers, especially when it feels as if one of his better dreams is coming to life. ]
Happier, now.
no subject
the slightest brush of their fingers shocks her system, and she almost instantly transforms into a teenager right then. blush tints her cheeks and she stops herself from looking away from him in embarrassment.
happier. because of her.
with the smallest smile on her face, she tilts her hand slightly so that her knuckles graze his as she turns away to slide the door open. there are still appearances to maintain, and ( mostly ) she wants to avoid any nosy aunties later on. )
Would you like to come in for tea?
no subject
He has mastered it. There is no denying it. He will continue to master his future as well, even if he cannot have such control over the past.
The offer sparks a gentle rise of colour on his cheeks, and he glances around, as if anyone would interrupt them, before he nods his head. ]
I would be glad to.
[ He remembers their shared words, their gentle teases and discussions, and he flusters a moment before he gathers his confidence. ]
Please, lead the way.
no subject
as she turns away from him to close the door, the blush on her cheeks comes into full force and she needs a moment to steady herself before facing him again. )
I am very glad you have come, ( she confesses quietly, gesturing for him to join her at the table. )
Please, sit.
no subject
She has seen the worst of him, and still invites him for tea. For more, perhaps, giddily.
Stepping around the table, he sits, making himself comfortable even as he nods his head. ]
I am glad to be here, Lady Wen. To...
[ Ah, the awkwardness. ]
To see you again. It is a good thing.
no subject
still, she hopes to put them both at ease and starts by relaxing her shoulders, no longer keeping her back as stiff as a board with her arms folded in front of her politely. she reaches for the still-hot teapot and pours simple barley tea in small glass cups. having something to do with her hands helps. )
I am — pleased to see you well, ( she finally offers, lifting her gaze off her cup as she holds it close to her face, letting the steam briefly settle on her skin. )
I have been thinking about our messages.
no subject
Slowly, carefully, he begins to relax as well, watching her with a fondness that he can't disguise. It's impossible not to, when she is so beautiful in front of him, so sweet in her appearance, everything that he had dreamed about for so long. Resisting her now is impossible, and he wonders how obvious he is being.
Glancing away, he swallows, licking his lips before he breathes out. ]
I haven't been able to think of anything else.
[ He leans forward, just a little. ]
Only you.
no subject
eventually, she sets the cup down, reaching across the table and extending her hand. there is no use in constantly punishing herself for what has been done in the past, what they could have done to prevent some of the wrong. there's only the present to live for. )
Then let us close the distance between us.
( it still sounds so proper, but that's something both of them will eventually learn to shake off. together, she hopes. )
no subject
He is doing what he can.
Wen Qing reaches for him, and he reaches back, the callouses on his hand brushing against her own. Slowly, he draws it up, so that he can lean in and kiss the tip of her fingers, turning to kiss her knuckle. It feels a touch on the edge of embarrassing, but that's okay; he can deal with a touch of sheepishness for her. ]
Closer, now, then?
[ He would move to her, go to her, now. Draw her into his lap. Hold her. ]
no subject
she's surprised — though, perhaps she shouldn't be — when he kisses her hand after her small prompting. grasping her hand, she expected, lacing their fingers together, maybe.
but she wants more. she knows he wants the same, and she fights every single urge to deny them another moment of happiness together, temporary or not. she squeezes his hand, tugging on it so he can come around to her side of the table. )
Even closer.
no subject
It feels like crossing the largest gorge, but also stepping across the smallest stream, so important to him and yet such a simple gesture.
Jiang Cheng is close enough now to lean in closer, to move her hand up and let it rest gently against the sharp edge of his cheekbone and jaw, to gaze at her with that adoration that he had never quite being able to muzzle or hide. ]
As close as you will permit.
[ Easy enough, then, to guide her close, to seek her mouth in a kiss. ]