[sidereal - the dreaming]

[laughitoff]

[for MDZS AU plot-related shenanigans]

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[strikingchords]

...

Tell me if something changes.

[he starts walking again.]

[laughitoff]

[the tunnel begins to slope uphill]

[strikingchords]

[it is still mostly dark. if this is consistent with how he saw things before he is about to walk out into a wall of mist. cool,

(he misses Wei Wuxian's closer presence already)]

[laughitoff]

[Wei Wuxin only comes forward enough to influence his senses somewhat, this time, when he must; the light from the end of the tunnel seems dull, as does the sweet burned-meat stink of the smoke that's replaced the mist]

[strikingchords]

[he doesn't try to push him about it. he just sees what he can see what he emerges, then tries for higher ground unless something super jumps out at him (metaphorically or literally) right away]

[laughitoff]

[nothing does. Lan Wangj half-recognizes the cluster of burned-out shacks here, actually, though of course the fires had long died and they had collapsed further into ashes by the time he reached this place

Wei Wuxian's shock is also icy.]

[strikingchords]

[some of them survived, for Wen Ning to find in their future selves' time. there was more than enough for him to recognize this.

he stops dead for a good twenty seconds and stares at them when his brain puts together what he's half-receiving from Wei Wuxian and what his own eyes are trying to tell him more coherently. this is his fresh nightmare, too, for all that they've drawn apart enough that Wei Wuxian might not pick up his reaction.]

[laughitoff]

[the shock drains, to be replaced by a moment of pure blankness, as though Wei Wuxian has gone away altogether and left him alone in the dream]

[strikingchords]

[breathes. that's fine. he knows where he wants to go here, actually, even with the veneer of unfamiliar scenery laid over it.

he closes his eyes, orients himself along his memory of the Wen encampment layout - ah, yes, that would have been the path he followed to get here those times, southeast of here - and starts climbing the hill to the northeast, where a scrappy if stunted excuse for a forest had settled in back in his own memories. he deliberately doesn't look at these healthier versions of the trees until he gets to the biggest of them, set a little apart from the others.

his eyes try to trick him and tell him it's whole, but he focuses on it firmly enough that it relents and shows him its lightning-split hollow face instead. he starts digging a short way down the slope, in its lee.]

[laughitoff]

[the hard soil crumbles more easily now that it's laden with ash.]

[strikingchords]

[this is the second time this night he's used Bichen to help him dig a grave in a dream. maybe he should change out its blade for a shovel.

once he's carefully rearranged and shrouded the sad little corpses he's collected for maximum dignity, buried them, and marked the spot with a heavy stone, he kneels by the tree with his guqin and releases the little family from their spirit-trapping pouch. he plays.

This tree has sheltered children before. Will you rest here?]

[laughitoff]

[they go to hover over the strings, their entwined voices answering

Yes.

No recent deaths in this ground.

We can sleep...]

[strikingchords]

[Do you desire help?]

[laughitoff]

[Please.]

[strikingchords]

[he begins playing Rest again. there's enough time for them to leave one more message behind before they fade away.]

[laughitoff]

[Do you desire help?]

[strikingchords]

[pauses, very surprised

Yes.]

[laughitoff]

[Open the door at the place where he fell...]

[strikingchords]

[...

Thank you. Sleep well.

he plays the last bars.]

[laughitoff]

[they fade away with the ending of the notes. there is silence.]

[strikingchords]

[he stares at the grave for a little while, then stands and lays a hand on the tree. thanks again, tree.]

[laughitoff]

[Wei Wuxian watches, with his hands folded into his sleeves and his thoughts dulled and red, as Granny and A-Yuan play their game of hide-and-seek, slowly in deference to Granny's arthritic knees. there are few places in the Burial Mounds where a child can play freely, safely, properly. they contrive to do their best. A-Yuan is sensitive enough to have caught some of the atmosphere of fear and despairing terror that pervades their little home, but they do their best to distract him, to continue on with him as though life is still the semblance of normalcy it had reached just a few months ago. why hurt him more? he's already condemned to death, just like the rest of them.

Wei Wuxian doesn't have to ward the little hill with its copse of scraggling trees. Wei Wuxian is stretching himself thinner and scraping himself rawer by the day, trying to build the shields strong enough to withstand the inevitable invasion, trying still to keep them all safe, trying to find a way out for the Wens if not himself, trying, trying, trying. he should not be sparing strength for this sentimentality. he does it anyway, his own indulgence.

Granny meets his eyes for a moment, while she makes the rounds of the trees, and they both try to smile at each other and fail before just nodding. A-Yuan is laughing, the only laughter that's been heard in the Burial Mounds these last days: ah, to be a child again, with any trust that the adults will make it right for you.

he is going to die. he knows that even as he bends himself to preserve the rest of them. he welcomes it at this point, not so deep down. but perhaps--]

[strikingchords]

[flinches, the barest twitch, closing his eyes]

[laughitoff]

[Wei Wuxian is back, clawing at him, trying to wrench him away from the tree and away from the hill, bright with rage]

[strikingchords]

[yeah Lan Wangji's completely unguarded against that, caught up in his own memories; he stumbles back from the tree and almost trips but for his long-practiced balance and control, jerked near-physically down the hillside]