[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.]
[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.]
[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?]
[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--]
[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]
[against the cacaphony of Wei Wuxian's emotions Lan Wangji's self-contained knife-blade of grief just-- doesn't show up; Wei Wuxian would have to be looking for it to feel its stiletto presence through Lan Wangji's gut, and he's obviously not. Lan Wangji actually goes to his knees for a moment at the onslaught in his head, blank and tense enough against his shaking that he's achieved a tremble in his hands from the other direction entirely.]
[it's another few seconds of agony before Wei Wuxian recollects himself and retreats once more, panting in the back of Lan Wangji's mind, trying to set the newfound knowledge that Lan Wangji did rescue A-Yuan against that suddenly undammed river of pain]
[Lan Wangji doesn't follow him; he just looks silently at the ground between the dirt-stained fingers of his outstretched gravedigger's hands, numb and cold as a man bled out]
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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.]
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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.]
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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?]
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Yes.
No recent deaths in this ground.
We can sleep...]
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Yes.]
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Thank you. Sleep well.
he plays the last bars.]
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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--]
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[a howling in his head, Wei Wuxian choked with furious grief all the way through]
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EVERYONE'S FINE HERE]
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Lan Wangji gets up again and shakes the ash off his dirt-resistant Lan mourning robes and keeps steadily walking down the hill without a word.]
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